


Angel

by bambirosesavage



Series: Yuri's Angels [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Child Neglect, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Family, Family Feels, Foster Care, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M, Married Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Past Child Abuse, Retired Victor Nikiforov, kid yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-11-16 04:50:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11246667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bambirosesavage/pseuds/bambirosesavage
Summary: When Yuuri and Viktor decide to be foster parents, they intend to take on a child no younger than 8. When three-year-old Yuri is brought to them, they don't really know what to expect. They just want to do right by him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by thesource1352

The call came shortly before midnight, and Yuuri was the one to answer the phone.

“Hello?” His Russian had much improved in the past four years he’d been living with his husband in Russia, but he still preferred Viktor to answer the phone. The other man was still in the bathroom taking a much needed shower. Viktor had been retired for a couple years, now focusing solely on coaching Yuuri, but at the end of the day he needed a hot shower just as much as the skater.

“Hello, is this the Nikiforov residence?” an unfamiliar woman’s voice responded. Yuuri frowned.

“Yes, this is Yuuri Nikiforov. May I ask who’s calling?”

“This is Mrs. Lodovskya. I’m a case worker with Children’s Ombudsman.”

Yuuri sat up straighter in bed, throwing his feet over the side and clutching the phone. “Oh?” he said awkwardly. “What is this about?”

“I’m sorry for calling so late. I do hope I haven’t disturbed you,” the woman said, sounding harried. “I’ve been trying to call various foster families, but you’re the first who has answered. I called six other families before you, you know.”

“What’s going on?” Viktor asked as he came into the bedroom from their en suite bathroom, clad only in a towel wrapped around his waist, his silver hair slicked back away from his face.

Yuuri waved a hand at him and mouthed “I don’t know” before saying to the woman “It’s no trouble. What can we do for you?”

“I’m trying to place a young boy. We were just now able to retrieve him from his home. His grandfather does not wish him to be placed in a group home as he is so young, but I’m running out of available families.”

“How young is he?”

 Viktor looked at him quizzically. “Foster kid,” Yuuri mouthed, and his Viktor’s eyes brightened.

“He’s three, but he seems very… quiet. Well-behaved.”

“I see.” Yuuri watched Viktor change into pajamas.

“To be blunt with you, Mr. Nikiforov,” the woman continued, “I really need to get him placed somewhere tonight. I understand if you can’t take him on such short notice, especially as I can see from your file that you’ve never fostered before, but it’s getting so late, and little Yuri’s so tired, and I have my own family waiting for me at home.”

“I understand.” Yuuri looked over to Viktor who was kneeling next to him on the bed, his sharp face so hopeful and excited. He wanted kids. They both did. A little baby to hold in their arms and complete their family, but it never seemed like the right time. They spent a lot of time away from home, either practicing at the rink or traveling for competitions. An infant who didn’t sleep through the night and required constant care and supervision didn’t fit into that lifestyle. So they had decided to wait until Yuuri was ready to retire. Fostering, they thought, would be alright. They could take on an older child who could look after himself for the most part, when Yuuri’s schedule wasn’t so hectic. Besides, they could always say no when the time came.

But the time had come, and Yuuri found himself saying “Yes, we can take him. Viktor and I would be happy to have him stay with us.”

The skater had barely gotten off the phone when Viktor attacked him with a kiss.

“Oh, Yuuri!” he sighed when he finally came up for air. “I’m so excited! I’m so happy! I thought you would say no.” He was radiant, flushed with excitement. His blue eyes sparkled.

“I thought I would too,” Yuuri grinned back. “I know it’s not the best time, but he needs us. It doesn’t matter if it’s a good time or not.”

 Viktor beamed at him. “My Yuuri, such a softie. A boy, you said. When are we getting him? How old is he? What’s his name?”

“I think she said his name was Yuri.”

Viktor’s smile got even wider. “That’s my favorite name.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes but blushed all the same. “He’s – he’s three.” The words cut through his dreamy state with sharp realization. “He’s three! We said no younger than eight, but he’s three! Oh no.” Their house wasn’t ready for a three-year-old. They lived in a two-story town house filled with plenty of dangers a little boy could get into. “Viktor, we can’t do this!” Yuuri cried desperately. “Nothing is baby proofed! What if he falls and hits his head on the coffee table? Or plays with the stove? We don’t have any of those plastic thingies for the outlets. He could electrocute himself!”

“Calm down, my love,” Viktor crooned happily, taking his husband by the shoulders. “Everything will be fine, I promise you. He’s a toddler, not a wild animal. And we’ll be with him to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. We’ll baby proof tomorrow.”

“But he’s coming here now!” Yuuri wailed. “We’re not ready!”

Viktor blinked in surprise, but his smile stayed just as bright. “All the more reason to baby proof tomorrow.”

“How are you not freaking out?” Yuuri demanded. Viktor’s serenity was frustrating him. How on earth could he be so calm when a toddler was going to be moving in with them within the hour? They both liked kids, yes, but children had always been in the abstract for them, and now they had a very real flesh-and-blood child on the way.

But Viktor simply patted Yuuri’s cheek and said “Because my lovely husband is nice enough to freak out for the both of us. Come on. Let’s get a room ready.”

By the time their doorbell rang half an hour later, Yuuri had worked himself into such a state that he felt a heart attack could be a real possibility in the very near future. They didn’t have any kid food! What if he didn’t like Japanese food, or worse, had an allergy? How would they get him to eat? What if he fell down the stairs? Or tried to run away? What if he didn’t like them? What if, what if, what if. He answered the door and tried to ignore the perspiration he could feel beading on his forehead and under his arms.

“Mrs. Lodovskya?” The woman at the door nodded curtly. “Please, come in.”

“I’m Viktor,” the other man introduced himself, all smiles. “You spoke to my Yuuri on the phone. We were so pleased to get your call. Can I get you anything? Some tea or some coffee perhaps?”

“No, thank you,” Mrs. Lodovskya replied. Her graying hair was slightly disheveled, and she had a buildup of blue eyeliner in the creases of her eyelids. She carried a small blue duffel bag in one hand, scarcely the size of Yuuri’s gym bag, but Yuuri took no notice of these things, his eyes fixed on the child she held against her hip.

Yuri had his face buried in this case worker’s shoulder, hiding it from view. His silvery gold hair was long for a boy, but it was fine and shiny. He wore a puffy green coat that made him look a bit like a moldy marshmallow and thick white socks. He had no shoes.

“This must be Yuri,” Viktor said, pulling Yuuri from his thoughts.

“Yes,” Mrs. Lodovskya said with a tired smile. “Yuri Plisetsky. Can you say hi, Yuri?” She bounced the boy in her arms, but he stayed quiet. “He’s a little shy,” the social worker apologized.

“So is my Yuuri,” Viktor smiled warmly. “It must be a Yuri thing.”

The woman smiled back at him. “I packed some of his things.” She indicated the duffel bag Viktor had taken from her. “Clothes, mostly. A couple toys, and diapers of course.”

“Diapers?” Yuuri asked, finding his voice again. “He’s not potty trained yet?”

“No.” Mrs. Lodovskya’s smile turned grim. “Did I not mention that? Is that going to be a problem?”

“No!” Yuuri answered in a rush before Viktor could. “No, of course not. We’re happy to have him.”

 “How long will he be with us?” Viktor asked.

 “I honestly couldn’t tell you,” the woman sighed. “A few weeks, a few months. I’m not sure. Things at his home were… not good. He can’t return to his birth mother until she proves herself to be a fit parent.”

“He wasn’t _abused_ , was he?” Viktor asked in an aghast whisper.

“We’ve started an investigation,” she answered, sidestepping the question. “His grandfather called us to report his concerns. Yuri’s quite underweight for a boy his age, skittish. His grandfather suspected the mother was using. She had drug problems in the past.”

“And his father?” Yuuri asked, his going back to the boy on her hip. He had yet to move or make a sound.

“There is none listed on the birth certificate.”

“Oh.” Viktor glanced over at his husband. “I understand. Well, like we said, we’re delighted to have him for the time being.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” Mrs. Lodovskya breathed. “We haven’t had a chance to bring him to the doctor yet. I can pick him up in the morning to bring him if you like. Or you can do it, with compensation, of course.”

“We’ll take him ourselves,” Yuuri said. “It’s no problem. We don’t mind.”

“Thank you.” It sounded genuine. “I think that’s it for now. I’ll be back to check on him soon. Yuri?” She patted the child’s back. “You’re going to be staying with these two nice men for a while, okay? They’re very nice, I promise, and they’re so happy to see you. Let’s say hello and get you settled, okay?” She jostled the boy when he didn’t respond, and he slowly came to life. He peered at the two men with large green eyes. His skin was pale, and his face was unusually thin and pointed for a toddler, his cheeks showing just a hint of roundness.

“Hi Yuri,” Yuuri greeted softly. “My name is Yuri too. We’re going to be good friends; I can already tell.” Yuri looked unimpressed. “Do you like dogs?” he continued. “We have a very nice dog. She’s sleeping right now. She’s getting old, but she’s very sweet. I’m sure she’d like to play with you if you want.”

“What do you say, Yuri?” Mrs. Lodovskya prompted. “Doesn’t that sound nice? How about we let Mr. Yuuri and Mr. Viktor show you the house?”

Yuri still didn’t answer, but let himself be handed off to Yuuri. The boy felt so small and light in his arms, and his bulky coat couldn’t hide how thin he was underneath. Yuuri held him gently against his chest, afraid to hold him too close and break him. The boy’s golden hair tickled his nose.

“Call me if you have any questions,” Mrs. Lodovskya was saying. She handed Viktor a business card. “Both my office and cell are on there. I’ll try to keep you updated on his case. If you ever need anything or need to give him back, give me a call.”

Viktor nodded, and she was gone, and they were alone with Yuri.

The little boy leaned back in the skater’s arms and gazed unapologetically into his face, waiting. His small mouth was pouty and petulant, and his eyes were large, round, daring.

Yuuri broke the gaze to look at Viktor, whose smile seemed to be permanently etched onto his face.

“Come. Do you want to see the house?” Viktor asked. He didn’t wait for Yuri to answer and led them towards the kitchen in the back of the house, prattling on all the way. “Do you like pretzels? I think I saw some pretzels in the pantry. My Yuuri loves them. I’m not sure what else we have. We’ll go shopping tomorrow, and you can pick out what you like.”

Their kitchen was smaller than Yuuri would have liked, but it was warm and clean. The white tiled floor gleamed thanks to Yuuri’s panicked scrubbing, and the marble countertops were wiped clean and disinfected. Yuuri set Yuri down on the counter while Viktor rummaged through the fridge. The toddler made an unhappy noise as the chill of the marble bled through his thin pants. The skater was relieved to hear the boy make a sound after being silent for so long, but didn’t pick him back up. He didn’t want to crowd the child. He’d already been taken away from his home and his family and brought to a new place and left with strangers. Yuuri didn’t want to do anything to make it worse.

“Are you hungry, Yuri?” Yuuri asked softly. Yuri looked up at him with an almost suspicious look and shook his head. Was the boy lying? He certainly looked hungry to Yuuri, achingly so, but the skater chose not to push the issue.

“I found apple juice!” Viktor announced from the fridge. “Do you want some, or a snack?”

Yuri shook his head as Yuuri pointed out that they didn’t own any sippy cups. Viktor deflated some.

“Darling,” Yuuri chimed in before Viktor could try to feed Yuri with an eyedropper. “How about we show Yuri his room? It’s late, and Yuri’s had a long day.”

“Oh.” Viktor’s smile slipped for a second but returned just as bright as ever. “Sure, of course.”

“Do you want to walk?” Yuuri asked, and Yuri nodded, though he held tight to Yuuri’s hand. When they got to the stairs and Yuri lifted his skinny arms up to the skater to carry him, Yuuri felt the tension around his heart melt. Yuri may be suspicious of them, but why shouldn’t he be when his own mother had neglected him so much he had to be taken away from her?

The townhouse had three bedrooms: the master bedroom, the guest room, and the spare room both Viktor and Yuuri lovingly called Makkachin’s room as the poodle spent much of her time lying on the sun soaked carpet and sleeping on the worn grey futon.

“This will be your room,” Viktor announced as the trio entered the seldom used guest bedroom. This bedroom was the smallest in the house, but it was the closest to Viktor and Yuuri’s room, and for that Yuuri was grateful. A full sized bed draped in a teal comforter took up the majority of the room, leaving just enough space for a blonde wood dresser and a short, mostly empty bookcase.

Yuuri set the boy on the bed, and Yuri looked up at him expectantly. “How about we unpack? That way your new room will feel a little more like your old one.”

Viktor put down the duffel bag and opened it. Yuri immediately reached into it and quickly withdrew a small stuffed tiger, holding it close and pressing his tiny nose into its fur.

“I like your tiger,” Viktor said, kneeling down in front of Yuri. “Does he have a name?”

Yuri murmured something Yuuri couldn’t make out, his voice muffled by the toy, but Viktor smiled warmly at him.  

“Kotonok? Kitten is a perfect name for him. Hello, Kotonok!” Viktor waved to the tiger. “We are so happy you and Yuri came to stay with us. You must be a very special tiger to be friends with someone as good as Yuri. We’re very lucky to have you both here.”

Yuri offered him a shy smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kotonok,” Yuuri greeted as well, squatting down beside his husband. “Did anymore of your friends come with you?”

Yuri pulled out two more plushies: a bear and an owl, but Kotonok was the obvious favorite. His fur was worn down and sparse in some spots, and one ear was missing, likely chewed off, Yuuri guessed, judging by the way the boy was sucking on the remaining ear.

Viktor got busy unpacking Yuri’s meager belongings. It didn’t take long to put away his clothes (only three shirts, a handful of socks, and a change of pants) and stack the handful of diapers and baby wipes on the bookcase’s bare shelves. A large tee shirt served as Yuri’s pajamas.

Yuuri took the shirt, a diaper, and the wipes and held out his hand for Yuri to take. “I’ll show you the bathroom, and we’ll get ready for bed. How does that sound?”

The little boy kept his silence, but allowed Yuuri to lead him into the upstairs bathroom.

“We’ll worry about taking a bath in the morning,” Yuuri decided. Now that he had his tiger clutched in his hands, Yuri was beginning to relax a little. His eyes were droopy, and he pulled unconsciously at his ear. Yuuri laid a soft towel down on the floor for Yuri to lay on while he changed his diaper. The boy didn’t fight Yuuri as the skater gingerly removed the child’s socks and pants, but watched him warily. Yuuri was relieved when he saw the boy’s skin was unbroken and bruise-free, but his legs were far too skinny.

Now in a fresh diaper, Yuri became more pliant. Yuuri quickly changed him out of his coat and threadbare sweater, tossing them both in the hamper. He would do laundry tomorrow. He tried not to focus on how he could count every single one of Yuri’s ribs, or the sharpness of his elbows and shoulder blades, or the way his stomach bloated out unnaturally. Instead, he pulled Yuri’s soft black shirt over his head and set to work brushing out all of the tangles from his silky hair. Yuri seemed to like having his hair brushed. He leaned into Yuuri’s touch, and his eyes drifted shut as Yuuri worked. By the time the skater was done, the boy was practically asleep on his feet. When Yuuri picked him up, he let his head fall easily to the man’s shoulder. Kotonok dangled from his hand. Yuuri bounced him to get his attention.

“Viktor and I will be right next door.” He pointed their room out to the sleepy boy. “If you need anything, just call for us, or come get us, and we’ll help you okay?”

Viktor had turned down the covers and plugged in a nightlight he’d found God knows where. An extra flannel blanket was folded neatly at the end of the bed. “It looks like someone’s ready for bed,” the coach said warmly as they entered. He helped the skater get Yuri settled in bed and pulled the covers up to the boy’s chin. The bed dwarfed him, making him look somehow smaller and thinner. Yuri rubbed at his ear as he watched Yuuri tuck in his bear and owl as well.

“Would you like a drink of water?” Viktor asked.

Yuri shook his head. Despite the newness of the situation, he was struggling to keep his eyes open.

“Alright Yura. You know where to find us?”

Yuri nodded.

“Good. We’ll come whenever you need us, I promise. I know things might be a little scary right now,” Viktor continued, “but Yuuri and I really want you to be happy here. We’re not trying to replace your mommy, but we do want you to be happy and healthy and safe. If anything is ever wrong, we want you to tell us. That would make us very happy.”

Yuri looked doubtful, but nodded anyway. Yuuri knelt down beside his bed and gently stroked the little boy’s fine hair. “Are you ready to go to sleep, Yura?” he asked, borrowing Viktor’s diminutive for the boy.

Yuri shook his head though his eyes were now only open in slits.

“That’s okay. How about I stay here with you for a little while? Would that be okay?”

The nod of Yuri’s head was minute, but Yuuri shared a smile with Viktor when he saw it. He combed his fingers through the boy’s hair, so fine it felt like spider webs between his fingers. The little boy loosened under his touch his eyes blinking slower and slower until he couldn’t open them again. Yuuri kept petting him even after Yuri’s face went lax and breath turned even and soft. He tucked the long hair behind the child’s ear, which was red and hot to the touch. He frowned.

“He’s asleep now,” Viktor whispered. He rubbed his husband’s neck and around his shoulder. “Look at him. We’ve been given an angel.”

Yuuri climbed to his feet and looked down at the boy. His golden hair fanned out on the teal pillow, away from his milky skin. His eyelashes were so blond they were nearly invisible. His pink mouth was gently parted, and two small white teeth could be seen. The boy was beautiful, but Yuuri saw how his cheeks were sunken in and his lips were chapped. His white skin was too pale, too thin, and too hot. His eyes, when open, were lovely, but not sweet. It wasn’t fair that such a small child, only three, was so guarded, wary, suspicious, and hard.

“I know, love. I know,” Viktor murmured as he wiped away Yuuri’s tears with the pad of his thumb. “We’ll make it right.”

“What if we can’t?” Yuuri whispered. “He’s so small. We’re not ready.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Viktor insisted. “We’ll get ready. Everything will be all right. Come now, no more tears. It’s late, and tomorrow will be a busy day. Let him sleep.”

He allowed Viktor to lead him out of the room, turning out the light as they left. They left the door open and the hall light on. Despite the late hour, neither found sleep easily, and the morning dawned too soon.

Viktor woke first. The weak autumn sunlight filtered through the curtains, falling over the bed and landing on Yuuri’s peaceful face. Viktor almost always woke before the skater, and he usually spent a few minutes every morning watching him sleep. Yuuri deserved the rest. He worked so hard, not only in the rink under Viktor’s watchful eye, but in the home as well. After spending a day at the ice rink working on jumps, transitions, spins, footwork, and stamina he came home and made dinner for the both of them while Viktor fed Makkachin and brought her outside. He then washed the dishes and helped Viktor with the housework, never complaining. Viktor loved seeing him relax. His features softened, and he looked younger, though still just as beautiful.

Viktor tucked an errant strand of black hair behind his husband’s ear, and Yuuri stirred, blinking blearily against the sunlight. “I’m sorry,” the coach murmured, pressing a kiss to Yuuri’s bare shoulder. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Yuuri groaned and rubbed his face against his pillow, making Viktor laugh. “It’s fine,” he mumbled, still waking up. “How did you sleep?”

Viktor shrugged. “I’ve had worse nights. How about you? I noticed you were more restless than usual.”

Yuuri rolled his head to pop his neck and stretched out his toes. “I had a hard time settling down. I was afraid Yura would call for me, and I wouldn’t hear him. Did you hear him at all?”

“No,” Viktor admitted. “I’m a lighter sleeper than you are though. I don’t think he called, or I probably would have heard him.”

“Good,” Yuuri said with a moan. “What time is it?”

Viktor checked the clock. “Half past 7. It’s still early and you’re still tired. Go back to sleep. You don’t have to get up yet.”

“Yes I do.” Yuuri groped for his glasses. “I need to call the doctor to make Yura an appointment. I should make a grocery list too. He needs more clothes. Shoes for sure; he doesn’t have _any_. He’s not too big for a stroller yet, is he? I guess it depends on the kind of stroller we get. We need a car seat for him too, and sippy cups. We should wait until after we go to the doctor to go shopping. He may need special food. He’s so thin. Wait, does our doctor even see children, or do we need to find him a pediatrician?”

He got out of bed and rummaged around in the dresser for socks and a pair of pants. His eyes itched behind his glasses. It was so tempting to just crawl back into bed and spend the morning cuddling with his husband, drifting in and out of sleep until hunger finally forced them out of bed. But he was a parent now and had a little boy who needed him. He glanced back at Viktor after he pulled on a thermal shirt. The coach had a bemused look on his face. “What?”

Viktor just smiled at him. “Let me call the doctor for you. He’s a family doctor; he should be able to see our little Yura. You can make breakfast, then we’ll make a plan from there. You do so much, my love. You should remember to let me help.”

Yuuri smiled wanly at that. “I’m sorry. It’s so new. I don’t want to mess things up for him.”

“Impossible,” Viktor insisted. He crawled out of bed and kissed Yuuri sweetly on the lips. “Shall we go see our angel?”

Yuuri smirked. “You might want to put on some pants first.”

Yuri was still asleep when they went to his room to check on him. He slept on his tummy, his thumb tucked inside his mouth, and his little index finger curled beside his tiny nose. Viktor couldn’t help the coo that escaped him.

Yuuri crept over to the bed, leaving Viktor in the doorway, and knelt down. “Yuri,” he called softly, placing his hand on the small of the boy’s back.

Yuri woke with a gasp. His green eyes shot open wide, and his whole body tensed. His too long fingernails bit into the pillow. He looked ready to fight, or scream at the very least.

Yuuri’s heart plummeted. “It’s okay, Yura. I’m sorry. It’s only us, angel.”

Yuri stared from Yuuri to Viktor, his eyes bulging in their sockets.

“See?” Yuuri ran his fingers through the boy’s sleep mussed hair. “You’re okay.”

“Good morning, angel,” Viktor greeted. “It’s time to wake up. We have a lot to do today.”

Yuri relaxed some as he recognized his new guardians. He sat up obediently, but looked as though he wanted to go back to sleep just as much as Yuuri did.

“Good boy,” Yuuri praised. He helped him change into his spare pants and socks before hefting him out of bed. “Do you want to help me make the bed, angel?”

“Not angel,” Yuri rasped back, surprising both men. His voice was breathy and harsh, like it hurt him to talk.

“You do speak!” Viktor teased.

Yuri frowned at him. “Yuri. Not angel.”

“Angel’s just a nickname,” Yuuri explained to the child. “We know your name is Yuri. We won’t call you angel if you don’t want us to.”

Yuri didn’t say anything to that, but watched as Yuuri straightened out the covers. He helped him fluff the pillow and arrange it against the headboard. He placed his stuffed animals in front of it, making certain that each sat up straight in its spot.

“That looks wonderful!” Viktor cheered, offering Yuri a high five. The boy simply looked at Viktor’s raised palm, confused. Viktor turned instead to Yuuri and gave him a high five to show Yuri what to do. When he offered Yuri his palm again, the child smacked it just as Yuuri had done, a little smile playing at his lips. Viktor beamed at him. “Well done! I think my Yuuri’s going to make us all some breakfast. Why don’t you help him?”

“Not hungry,” Yuri mumbled, shooting a daring look at Yuuri.

It wasn’t right, Yuuri thought, for a toddler to have such an adult expression. “That’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to eat very much. I’m thinking of making omelets. What do you think of that?”

“What that?” Yuri asked as he followed them out of the room. He walked down the stairs by himself, holding on tight to the bannister. He trailed after the men into the kitchen, scuffing his feet as he went. Viktor left them alone and went to the living room to make Yuri’s doctor’s appointment. Yuuri brought a chair from the dining room into the kitchen and helped the little boy climb onto it to watch him cook.

Yuuri took tomatoes, peppers, and a carton of brown eggs from the refrigerator. Yuri watched curiously as Yuuri diced the peppers and tomatoes. “What that?” His voice crackled in his throat. He pointed at the peppers the man was working on.

“It’s a green pepper,” Yuuri responded. He glanced over at the boy to make sure he wasn’t reaching for anything he’d be better off not touching, but his concern was unneeded. Yuri kept his hand closed around the back of the chair. “Do you want to try a little? It’s not spicy.”

Yuri wrinkled his nose. “No. Green’s all yuck.”

“That’s okay,” Yuuri reassured him, even though he couldn’t help but think of how difficult meal times would be in the future if the little boy refused to eat vegetables. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. How about you help me crack the eggs and mix them up instead?”

The suspicious look came back to him face.

“Look. I’ll show you.” The Japanese man showed the little boy how to crack an egg on the side of the small mixing bowl. He used a fork to scramble the eggs and found another bowl for Yuri to use. Yuri held the egg with both hands, turning it over and over. “Crack it,” Yuuri encouraged. “It won’t scramble while it’s still in the shell.”

The boy hit the egg against the bowl’s lip, too softly to break it. He looked up at his caretaker. “Don’t work.”

“Try again,” Yuuri instructed. “A little harder this time.”

Yuri tried again. This time, the egg cracked. He smiled. “I fix.”

“You sure did!” Yuuri grinned. “Now, break it open over the bowl.”

Yuri did what he was told, only getting a little bit of shell in the bowl as well.

“Fantastic!” Yuuri praised. The boy beamed back at him, his face shining with pride. Pride suited him; it made his eyes gleam, and his smile lent his cheeks some much needed roundness. It was the happiest Yuuri had seen him so far.

“What you doing?” Yuri asked when the man picked out the little shards of shell from the bowl.

“Taking the shell out. You don’t want to eat that part. It’s nasty.”

Yuri’s fine blond eyebrows pinched together. “I done it bad?”

“No!” Yuuri answered quickly. “You did great. Eggs don’t always break well. Everyone gets a little shell in their eggs every now and then. I get shell in mine all the time.”

Yuri didn’t seem to truly believe him, and the pride drained from his face. He wouldn’t take the fork Yuuri offered him to scramble the egg. The skater did it himself and rushed to finish their breakfast. He put bread in the toaster and started the coffee pot.

“Don’t touch this,” Yuuri warned as he poured his own beaten eggs into a pan on the stove and added the vegetables. “It’s hot.”

Yuri nodded, still sporting a glum look.

Yuuri finished preparing the meal as fast as he could, eager to move on to a new activity so the child wouldn’t have long to stew in his perceived failure. He was buttering toast when he heard a squeal from behind him. He spun around, the butter knife still in his hand and fearing the worst, to see Makkachin sniffing at Yuri’s toes. It looked as though their noise had finally woken the old dog, or perhaps it was the smell of their breakfast that brought her downstairs.

“There’s my beautiful girl!” Viktor crowed, entering the kitchen with Makkachin’s leash in hand. The dog gave Yuri a final sniff before bounding over to the silver-haired man. Her tail wagged furiously. Yuri stared at the poodle with wide eyes.

“This is our dog Makkachin,” Yuuri told him

“Makk-in,” Yuri repeated, mispronouncing the name.

“Makkachin,” corrected the skater.

Yuri frowned. “Makk-in.”

“Makkachin doesn’t care what you call her,” Viktor interrupted. He’d fastened the leash to her collar and brought her back over to the boy, who leaned away from the dog, uncertain. “So long as you are sweet to her and give her treats, she’ll be your friend forever.”

“Do you want to pet her?” Yuuri asked, dishing up their breakfast. “She’s very soft.”

Yuri reached out a tentative hand and gave the dog’s curly head a pat. Makkachin wagged her tail and licked his hand. Yuri shrieked, somewhere between surprised and delighted.

“She gave you a kiss!” said Viktor. “That means she likes you.”

Yuri smiled. “Good doggie.”

“Don’t be too long,” Yuuri called after his husband as he took Makkachin outside to do her business. “Breakfast is nearly ready.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor admonished. “You know you should never rush a lady.”

Yuri watched rather than helped Yuuri bring the food into the dining room. The room where the couple ate nearly all their meals was just large enough to hold the long table, its six chairs, and the various potted plants Yuuri fretted over when he and Viktor went away for competitions. When Viktor came back in, Yuuri had him bring in a couple of books for Yuri to sit on so he could reach the table. He poured Yuri some apple juice into the lightest weight mug he could find. It wasn’t as good as a sippy cup, but he hoped the handle on the side would help the boy keep the mug steady. He sat next to him at the table so he’d be able to help if Yuri needed him to.

“I got an appointment,” Viktor reported. “There was an opening at 10, so we have plenty of time to get ready and drive over. Ooh, good coffee, my love,” he commented, sipping from his favorite mug, which was blue with a butterfly on it.

“Thank you,” Yuuri replied. His eyes kept drifting over to Yuri, who seemed to be struggling a little with his fork. After a blob of plain scrambled egg dropped from the utensil for the second time, the boy put it aside and ate with his fingers.

“We’ll need to make a list.” Yuuri forced his attention back to Viktor. “I don’t want to spend all day at the grocery store if we can help it.”

Viktor nodded and opened the notes application on his phone. “Ready and waiting.”

Despite Yuri’s claim that he wasn’t hungry, he seemed to eat quite well, though he didn’t appear to like biting into his food. Instead, he picked everything apart into little bits that he sucked off his fingers. Both men watched as the half slice of toast Yuri had been given was systematically pulled apart before being eaten. By the time the men were finished with their list and their omelets, only a little egg was left on Yuri’s plate.

“Did you like your eggs?” Viktor asked him as Yuuri helped him take a sip of juice. “I never cared for eggs much, but my Yuuri makes the best eggs. I’d never eat them if he didn’t cook them so well.”

Yuri wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pinched a bit of leftover egg between his fingers. He shrugged. “Feel funny.”

“The texture?” Viktor laughed. “They can be kind of slimy. That’s part of the reason why I didn’t like- “

He was interrupted by a small gagging noise across the table. Before he, or Yuuri, could say or do anything, Yuri cupped his hands in front of his mouth and promptly threw up into them. He brought up the eggs, the juice, the toast, all of it. It overflowed his cupped hands and spilled onto his lap, seeping into his pants.

The men were shocked, their mouths hanging open in surprise. It was like he had _expected_ to throw up. Yuri’s face remained emotionless as he jumped down from his seat, a couple of drops of yellow vomit splattering on the carpet when he stumbled, and walked as quickly as his thin little legs would carry him into the kitchen. Both men followed and saw him reach up over his head and fling the mess in his hands into the sink. Some of the vomit ran down his arms, and he wiped his hands off on his shirt. He looked up and saw Viktor and Yuuri staring at him with a mixture of concern, disgust, and pity in their eyes. He looked confused for a moment, then his eyes welled up, and a quiet sob escaped him, breaking the spell over the two men.

“Oh, Yuri,” the skater said as he scooped up the crying boy without a second thought. Yuri tucked his face into Yuuri’s neck and sobbed. Yuuri could feel his hot tears and his hot skin against his flesh. “It’s okay, angel. It’s okay. Don’t cry.”

Viktor wrapped his arms around Yuuri so that the boy was sandwiched between his foster parents. Yuuri’s sight was obscured by Yuri’s hair, but he could see the other man’s face and knew he was thinking the same thing: Yuri had done this before, probably more than once, probably many times. He’d been so calm and had known exactly what he was doing. This was part of the little boy’s normal. Viktor and Yuuri had just been given a glimpse into Yuri’s home life, and it horrified them.

“Everything’s okay, angel,” Viktor crooned, his voice almost a song, but for the first time since Yuri came, Yuuri could see that his confidence had been shaken. There was fear in those blue eyes.

Yuri cried all the way upstairs to the bathroom. Viktor started the water for a bath and added bubble foam, the only thing available he could think of to cheer up the boy. Yuuri stripped the child of his clothes, removed his messy diaper, and cleaned him off with toilet paper. Viktor took the dirty diaper and disappeared, returning a few minutes later with a soft yellow towel from their own bathroom. Yuuri helped the boy climb into the tub and lathered a clean cloth to wash the vomit, snot, and tears from his face. Still Yuri cried, his face flushed.

“It’s alright,” Viktor murmured, dipping his hand into the warm water, scooping it up to let it trickle down the boy’s back. “You don’t need to cry, angel. Please don’t cry.”

Both men kept up a constant stream of reassurances and kind words was they worked together to bathe the child, but it seemed that now that the tears had started, Yuri was powerless to stop them. His sobs eventually calmed into sniffles as they washed his long hair, never fighting against them and remaining limp in the bath water. His sniffled turned to silent tears when he was taken from the tub, dried, and dressed. Yuuri had had to put him back in his pants from the day before, but Yuri didn’t seem to notice.

When Viktor picked him up, Yuri clung to him. Yuuri changed out of his sick soaked shirt and started the laundry before taking the boy so Viktor could start cleaning up the dining room and kitchen. Yuri’s skin stayed flushed. Yuuri carried him to the den in the very back of the house. Their living room was nice enough, but the den was more comfortable. The furniture there was softer, more worn, and felt more like home even if it wasn’t as pretty as the things in the living room.

Makkachin looked up from where she lay on the floor and wagged. Yuuri settled into the big, squashy recliner Viktor claimed to hate while Yuri nestled against his chest, his thumb going to his mouth. Yuuri began to sweat from the heat coming off the little boy.

“How are you feeling, angel?”

Yuri didn’t complain about the nickname. “Hurts,” he mumbled.

“What hurts?” Yuuri began to rock him. “Your tummy?”

“Throat,” rasped the boy. He rubbed at his ear with his free hand.

Yuuri felt Yuri’s face. It was hot to the touch, but his tear tracks had dried. That was good at least. Yuuri had been beginning to worry about dehydration.

“How are my beautiful boys?” Viktor asked in a soft, sweet whisper a while later.

“I think we’re okay now,” Yuuri answered.

“Is he asleep?”

“No. He has a fever. He says his throat hurts.”

Viktor nodded. “Our poor little angel. I guess it’s a good thing we’re going to the doctor, isn’t it, my love?”

Yuuri smiled. Viktor, ever the optimist. Even having a sick little boy on their hands couldn’t keep his spirits down. “Yes, it is. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes. Kotonok is ready, too.”

Yuri lifted his head at the sound of his favorite toy’s name. His green eyes were bloodshot and puffy, but he was still beautiful, their angel. He took the tiger from Viktor and offered him a tiny smile.

“Alright, then. Let’s go.”


	2. Chapter 2

The car ride over to Dr. Chazov’s clinic was a little uncomfortable, but they had made it work. They didn’t have a car seat for Yuri yet, and he was still too little to sit in the backseat by himself, so Yuuri had ridden in the back of Viktor’s sleek black car with the boy on his lap. He didn’t think Viktor had ever driven so carefully, going slow and looking back at them through the rearview mirror more than was actually necessary. For his part, Yuri didn’t whine or complain. He didn’t seem to mind being fastened to Yuuri’s lap. He played with Kotonok, making him walk across Yuuri’s knees and stopping every once in a while to press the soft toy against his nose.

Now he looked curiously around the waiting room. The room was brightly lit and cheerful for a doctor’s office. Soft leather couches lined the walls, and vibrant watercolors decorated the room A coffee pot percolated on the table next to the receptionist’s desk, and Yuuri thought longingly of the half-drunk mug of coffee he left at home.

The waiting room at the doctor’s office was mostly empty when the Nikiforovs arrived. A young woman with dark hair pulled back tight and a brace around her wrist was the only other patient waiting to be seen. She smiled when she saw Yuri balanced on Viktor’s hip.

A pretty blonde woman greeted them when they came in. “Good morning. Can I sign you in?”

“Sure,” said Viktor. “I’m Viktor Nikiforov. I have an appointment for Yuri Plisetsky at 10.”

Yuri looked up at the sound of his name. “Where is we?” he whispered to Viktor.

“The doctor’s,” the coach answered, patting the little boy’s back. “We’re going to see if we can’t get you feeling a little better.” He put him down on a couch so he could sit between his foster parents.

“Betterer than what?”

“So your throat doesn’t hurt anymore,” Yuuri tried to explain, “and so you don’t throw up anymore.”

“No more tummy aches?”

“That’s right.” Viktor pulled his phone from his pocket and took a picture of the boy. He showed it to Yuri.

“That’s me.” Yuri reached for the phone, but Viktor handed it to Yuuri instead.

Yuuri smiled. “Cute. You’re so cute, Yura.” He sent the photo to himself before giving Viktor back his phone.

Yuri watched the phone sullenly as it vanished back into Viktor’s pocket. His bottom lip jutted out a little, but he stayed quiet, busying himself with Kotonok until a nurse called his name and his guardians picked him up. They followed the nurse down a hallway and into an examination room. Yuri looked around, warier of this room. There were too many unfamiliar things. His thumb went to his mouth.

“Okay, Yuri,” the nurse said, pulling a clipboard out of a drawer. “Jump up here and let’s see how big you are.”

Viktor set the child down next to the scale, but Yuri backed away from it into Yuuri’s legs.

“It’s okay.” Yuuri stroked his hair. “You can do it.”

Yuri shook his head.

“How about this?” The nurse opened another drawer and took out a page of stickers. “If you can get on the scale for me, I’ll let you have a sticker.” She showed the boy the page for his consideration.

“That sounds like a good deal to me,” Viktor encouraged.

Hesitantly Yuri inched towards the scale. Yuuri walked behind him, keeping his hand on his head.

“Good job!” the nurse praised as he finally stepped onto the scale. “Hold still, still, still.” She recorded his numbers. “12.4kg and 88.2cm tall.”

Yuuri’s stomach went cold. He knew Yuri’s numbers would be low, but he didn’t know they would be that low. He held Yuri’s hand as the boy got down from the scale. His smiled stayed fixed in place for him as he selected a sticker from the page. He showed Viktor the shiny red and white chicken the nurse had stuck on the back of his hand, and Yuuri noticed that even Viktor’s smile was a little forced.

“That’s so cool, angel,” Viktor praised anyway. “Excellent choice.”

He got another sticker for letting the nurse take his temperature: 38.0 C. This time he picked a goat. He stuck it clumsily to Viktor’s hand, and the coach’s smile turned genuine.

“What about my Yuuri? Can he have a sticker too?”

The nurse grinned and let the child pick out a third sticker. Yuuri happily accepted the horse Yuri gave him. “Thank you!”

Yuri picked at the edges of his chicken sticker after the nurse left the room to get the doctor.

“Leave it alone, or it will fall off,” Viktor warned him.

Yuri looked at him. “Wanna go.”

“I know, angel. We’ll go soon. The doctor still has to see you first.”

“No,” Yuri pouted. “Wanna go now.”

“Soon,” Yuuri promised. He picked the boy up, and Yuri wrapped his arms right around the man’s neck, sighing into his ear. “As soon as we’re done here, we’re going to go to the store, won’t that be fun? If you’re good for the doctor, Viktor and I will let you pick out a new toy.” They were going to get him new toys anyway, but he didn’t need to know that.

“My pick?”

“Yep,” Viktor reassured him. “Anything you want.”

Yuri’s eyes widened. “Anything?” He perked up.

“So long as you’re good,” Yuuri told him. “Are you going to be good?”

“Yes,” Yuri promised, though he continued to pout against Yuuri’s shoulder.

To his credit, Yuri did pretty well. He sat on Yuuri’s lap while Dr. Chazov checked his eyes, ears, and throat. He didn’t complain when he had to take off his shirt for the doctor to probe his chest and listen to his heart and lungs. He gasped a little when the doctor pinched at the skin on his thin arm. He let the man pull up his lip to look at his teeth and gums. He walked around and hopped in place when he was asked. The only issue he caused was that he didn’t want to talk to the doctor at all, and to be honest, Yuuri could understand why.

Dr. Chazov was a large, brusque man. He stood a good head taller than Viktor, and even though the man was in his sixties, his arms were corded with muscle and veins. His head was bald, but had an imposing grey goatee and mustache to make up for it. He was an intimidating man to Yuuri, and he had been a patient of his for years; he could only imagine how he looked to little Yuri.

“Come on, Yura,” Yuuri tried to encourage. “You’ve been talking to Viktor and I all day. Dr. Chazov is nice.” But Yuri just bit down on his lip and shook his head.

“Just pretend he’s not here,” Viktor suggested. “Talk to us. How’s Kotonok doing? How is he feeling today?”

Yuri shook his head again, this time clutching the plush tiger al the closer, like he was scared someone would take it away.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dr. Chazov laughed. “So long as he’s talked to you, you can answer my questions. Have you noticed any slurring of the words, or sounds he’s having a lot of trouble with?”

“Not that I’ve noticed,” Yuuri answered.

Viktor agreed with him. “He doesn’t talk very much yet, but when he does, he speaks clearly.”

“How about complete sentences?”

Viktor and Yuuri shared a look before the older man answered. “No, not so much yet.”

“He does talk though,” Yuuri chimed in, eager to defend the little boy on his lap. “He knows his name, and he answers questions. Sometimes he uses really short sentences, but he usually uses a couple words.”

The doctor nodded, but still looked grim. “By three most children are using complete sentences, but every kid is different. Do you know much about his home life? You’re fostering him, right?”

“We don’t know much,” Viktor admitted. “Yuri just came to us yesterday. His case worker told us there’d been an issue with the mother.”

“Right, well, he’s definitely malnourished,” said the doctor. “He’s about the size of a two-year-old, but even then, he’s underweight. Weight gain should be the main priority, but it will take time for his stomach to grow and get used to food. He’s basically in starvation mode right now. That’s why his stomach is so bloated.”

Viktor blanched.

“You should start light. Liquids. Broths and electrolyte water. There are some nutritional shakes too that should be okay. If he’s able to keep that down fine, you can start him on solids. Oatmeal and easy grains, should be alright, slowly working up to foods with more fat and protein. He also needs to start taking vitamin supplements; I’ll prescribe him some. Once he starts to get healthier, he should start growing better. I’ll put you in contact with a child nutritionist in case you have any questions.”

“That,” Viktor said, “is a lot to take in.”

Dr. Chazov nodded, but kept going. He told them that Yuri had an ear infection and a throat infection in addition to his dietary problems. Apparently he was especially susceptible to infection due to his malnutrition. He needed ear drops and an antibiotic shot. They were to bring him back in if his fever didn’t go down. Viktor and Yuuri were told not to push the boy into potty training until Yuri started showing interest in it, something Dr. Chazov said could start when Yuri started to get healthier. They could start efforts to improve his speech through word games and regular conversation.

Yuuri was somewhat overwhelmed by all the information, but what struck him was just how preventable all Yuri’s health problems were. He looked down at the child in his lap. Yuri was sucking on Kotonok’s ragged ear and playing with a stray thread on his shirt’s hem. He must have felt the skater’s gaze because he looked up at him with his wide green eyes. Yuuri smiled so he wouldn’t cry. How could anyone treat such a lovely child so poorly? All it would have taken was a little care from Yuri’s mother, and the toddler would be healthy and strong. From what Dr. Chazov had said, Yuri’s mother probably hadn’t even _talked_ to him.

The doctor left to get Yuri’s prescriptions sent in while the nurse came back in to finish up. Yuri only cried for a few minutes when the nurse administered the antibiotic shot, but Yuuri still hated every second of his tears.

“I know, I know,” the nurse said as he covered the injection site with a blue Band-Aid. “That was so mean of me. Here, let me make it better.” She took a little lollipop from the pocket of her scrubs.

Yuri’s tears stopped when he saw it. “For me?”

“Sure. Ask one of your daddies to unwrap it for you.”

Viktor’s grin at being called a daddy only grew when Yuri thrust the treat at him for help.

“There’s a mild pain reliever in it,” said the nurse when Yuri popped the lollipop into his mouth. “It will help his throat.”

“Can you tell her thank you?” Yuuri prompted. He gathered the little boy into his arms and grabbed the makeshift diaper bag Viktor had organized for them from an old leather satchel.

Yuri barely glanced at the nurse, and he shook his head with a sniffle.

The nurse laughed. “I don’t blame you! I poked you with a needle. We don’t thank the people who hurt us, do we?”

* * *

 

The department store was crowded as it was a Saturday morning, and Yuri pressed his face into Yuuri’s shoulder to hide from the sea of faces. The stem of his medicated treat scratched against Yuuri’s neck. Several of the passing people looked at them strangely, and Yuuri knew what they were seeing. He and Viktor were both well dressed, tall, slender, and athletic young men. Likely, a few recognized them as famous skaters and Olympic champions. Little Yuri, with his ugly coat, dirty socks, lack of shoes, and frail body stuck out like a sore thumb.

“We’ll be needing a cart,” Viktor observed, looking at the list in his phone and ignoring the curious eyes around him. “Maybe two.”

“We need disinfecting wipes first,” Yuuri decided, the doctor’s words lingering in his head. “I’m not letting him touch anything we haven’t disinfected first. I don’t want him to get any sicker.”

Viktor laughed, but pushed the cart he found so Yuuri could carry Yuri until they got the wipes. After giving the cart a thorough cleaning and settling their charge, and Kotonok, into the wire seat, the couple set off in search of a car seat, which had become their top priority.

Yuri watched the people passing them shyly. He ran his little finger over the gold ring on Yuuri’s finger. “What this for, Yuuuuri?” he asked, drawing out the name.

“It’s my wedding ring,” Yuuri told him. “Viktor has one too. It shows the we’re married to each other.”

“It pretty,” Yuri decided. He rubbed the ring some more.

“Look at this one,” Viktor called Yuuri’s attention to one of the car seats. To the skater, the black and grey booster looked very much like all the other car seats in the aisle, but Viktor was excited about it for some reason. “This one says it will grow with him as he gets older. Look.” He pointed to the writing on the side of the large box. Yuuri struggled to read the tiny Russian print. “It starts out rear-facing, but as he gets bigger, we can turn it around and take parts off until it’s just a booster seat.”

“Darling,” Yuuri tried to reason with over excited husband. “He won’t need a booster seat until he’s how old, six? He’s only three. We probably won’t have him long enough for him to use any of those other settings. He might be able to go back to his mom in a couple weeks. You heard Mrs. Lodovskya last night.”

“Mama,” Yuri said, looking at the box absently, only partly paying attention to what his guardians were saying.

Viktor looked forlorn. “But what if he _is_ with us that long? Mrs. Lodovskya said she didn’t know when he’d leave us. We should plan ahead.”

Yuuri laughed. “How far ahead do you want to plan? Should we start a college fund?”

“That’s a great idea!” Viktor raved. “I’ll call the bank Monday!”

“I was kidding.”

“Oh. Yes. Well.” Viktor turned the box in his hands. “Can’t we get this one? We can afford it, and the doctor did say he would grow when he starts eating better.”

Yuuri noted that the one Viktor had selected was the most expensive seat by far, but Viktor looked so hopeful that he rolled his eyes and nodded his head.

Viktor’s smile encompassed his face, and he planted a kiss on Yuuri’s cheek and even on the top of Yuri’s head. The boy looked up, startled by the show of affection. He looked at Yuuri as if asking how he was supposed to react. Yuuri smiled at him.

“I’m going to buy it now,” Viktor announced in a rush, not bothering to put the box in the cart at all. “I want to get it installed for him before we’re done here. It’s cold outside, and I don’t think he should have to wait for us to get the seat ready.”

“All right,” Yuuri said, knowing it would be easier to let the man do what he wanted than argue with him. “We’ll be around here somewhere.”

Viktor nearly skipped as he ran off towards the checkout line.

“I guess it’s just us now,” the skater told Yuri.

The boy took the almost gone lollipop out of his mouth with a faint popping noise. “Toy?”

“Yes, angel. Wait just a little longer for me. I’m sure Viktor will want to be here for that.”

“Vik-tor,” Yuri repeated, stretching the name out. “He leave.”

“Yes, but he’ll be back soon. Here,” Yuuri steered the cart down the next aisle to find a distraction to hold the boy’s attention until the coach came back. If he’d taken a photo of the child’s doctor’s appointment, he would definitely want to document his first toy. Bottles, pacifiers, sippy cups, bibs, and adorable little plastic utensils lined the shelves. “Do you want to pick out some sippy cups with me?”

Yuri perked up at that, but soon became overwhelmed by the sheer amount of choices. He looked to Yuuri, lost. The man took a new approach. He held up two cups for the boy’s inspection. One was a clear red and the other had Lightning McQueen on it. “Which one?”

Yuri pointed at the red one. They employed that system to pick out more sippy cups, a set of kids’ utensils, and plastic bowls and plates. Yuri tended to avoid cartoon characters in favor of patterned colors or animals. Yuuri guessed that the little boy probably didn’t know many of the characters, which made him unreasonably sad. Even he still liked to watch cartoons from time to time, and he was an adult. A dual pack of sippy cups was a particular favorite. Yuri rubbed his thumb over the puppies on one of the cups. He held it up to Yuuri. “Look!”

“I see!” Yuuri put a couple bibs in the cart, along with a few packs of diapers and wipes. “Very cute.”

“Very cute,” Yuri repeated him. “Puppies.”

“That’s right.” Yuuri brought the cart to the children’s bath section. “What about that one?” He pointed to the other cup in the pack.

“Kitties.”

“Good job!” Yuuri didn’t really need to buy special towels for the boy, but the hooded duckie towel was too cute to pass up. He picked up a bottle of children’s shampoo shaped like a fish and smelled it. Apples. He added it to the cart. “Do you like kitties or puppies more?”

“Umm.” Yuri kept petting the cup. “Kitties. Mama has kitties. Outside. Not inside. That bad.”

“Oh?” It was the most Yuri had ever said at once. “Why is that bad?”

“Mama say animals bad. Make messes. Dirty stay outside.”

“What about Makkachin? Do you like her? She likes you.” It wasn’t what he wanted to ask, but he was afraid of pushing him too far. He was already sick without potentially bringing up bad memories.

“Yes. Makk-in good.”

“That’s good to know. I like both doggies and kitties too.”

“There you are!” came Viktor’s voice. He joined them eagerly. His silver hair was messy and his cheeks and the tip of his nose were red. “I’ve been looking for you. What did you find?”

“Look, Vik-tor!” Yuri held up the cups. “Puppies and kitties! I pick it!”

“You did? Wonderful!”

Yuri lit up at the praise.

“Did you get the seat in okay?” Yuuri asked, watching Viktor pick through the things in the cart.

“Yes, sorry it took so long. It was more complicated than I anticipated.”

“Maybe because you chose the most complicated seat.”

“Ooh. This is cute,” Viktor said, ignoring the skater’s comment. He held up the yellow duck towel. “Are there more of these?”

“Yeah, but the duck was my favorite one. I like the bill.”

“We should get some more!” Viktor insisted.

“We’re just getting the necessities,” Yuuri reminded him. “We have plenty of towels at home that will work just fine.”

“But you got to pick the duck,” Viktor pointed out. “I want to pick one. Is there a dog? Oh, or a rabbit? With the ears?”

“Remember that they’re not for you, darling,” Yuuri laughed. “They’re for Yuri.”

“I know, I know, but they’re so cute!”

“Cute!” Yuri parroted. That was all the encouragement the coach needed, and more towels were added to the cart.

Things didn’t improve when they got to the clothing section of the store. Viktor and Yuuri didn’t normally shop for clothes in department stores, preferring to go to boutiques or high end shops. Truth be told, Yuuri didn’t mind the clothes at the department stores, but Viktor had seemed shocked that Yuuri still shopped there after they got married. To Yuuri, the clothes weren’t really all that different. So long as his clothes fit him well and kept him warm, Yuuri was satisfied. Viktor was not. Much to Yuuri’s surprise, and delight, Viktor gushed over the children’s clothes.

“Ooh! Look at the little shoes!” The Russian man held up a pair of tiny brown boots. “We need these.”

“He needs-“

“He needs these,” Viktor corrected himself before Yuuri could finish his sentence. “It’s cold outside. It’s only going to get colder. He needs boots to keep his toes warm.” Three pairs of boots found their way into the cart, as well as two pairs of athletic shoes, and two packs of socks. Yuuri used his knowledge of the boy’s preferences to help steer his partner away from the shirts with cartoon characters printed on them and towards the ones with stripes and plain blocks of color. By the time they were done, Yuuri was sure they had way more clothes than Yuri actually needed.

Viktor put the new pairs of boots on the boy. “What do you think, Yura? Do you like them? Are they too tight? Wiggle your toes for me.”

Yuri stared down at his feet and didn’t answer Viktor’s questions. Instead, he asked, “For me?”

“Yeah, Yuri,” Yuuri grinned. “All of this is for you.”

Yuri looked at him with round eyes. “Really?”

“Yes!” Viktor cheered. “All for my angel! What do you think? Do you like it?”

Yuri shrugged, and Viktor sagged a bit. “Can still have toy?”

“Of course!” Viktor brightened again. “You’re still getting your toy. Do you want to pick it out now?”

“Yes!”

The little boy was spellbound when they got to the toy aisle. Bright colors and flashing lights dazzled him, pulling his attention this way and that.

“Do you want another friend for Kotonok?” Viktor suggested when the child sat with his mouth gaping open without making a choice. He took a large white tiger plush from the shelf and held it in front of him.

Yuri blinked at it before pushing it away. “No. It too big. Scare Kotonok.”

“You don’t like him?”

Yuri shook his head. “Too big is scary. It will be mean.” He clutched Kotonok to his chest to protect him from the too big tiger. None of the smaller stuffed animals held his interest either. His eyes kept darting back to the flashing lights and loud noises. Finally, he pointed at a toy. “That one. Want that one.”

To the men’s surprise, Yuri had chosen a firetruck. It played a song and made sound effects when the ladder on the back was extended. There was even a button to turn on the lights on top. Yuri was ecstatic. He held it in his lap with his worn tiger on top, while the men added vocabulary and spelling flashcards, memory games, crayons, drawing paper, clay, bubbles, blocks, and finger paints to the cart, which was now in danger of overflowing.

* * *

 

By the time the trio got to the grocery store, Yuri was starting to wilt, and Yuuri wondered why they thought running all their errands at once would be a good idea. Maybe it would have been better to split up; one of them could have stayed home with Yuri while the other did the shopping. He sighed as he got the child situated in his basket seat. Oh well. They were here now. There was nothing left to do but power through and hope for the best.

“I think it would be best to make this a quick trip,” he warned Viktor. Going shopping with the coach could be more fun than Yuuri would have thought possible of the tedious task. Viktor shopped like he did everything else: with enthusiasm. He pulled things from the shelves seemingly at random, showing Yuuri anything that looked new or interesting to him. He was always eager to try new foods and dishes. Yuuri loved his excitement, but it did make the weekly chore last longer than he thought was strictly necessary.

“I agree,” said the silver-haired man. He patted Yuri’s head. Yuri scrubbed at tired green eyes. “Our little one isn’t going to last much longer.”

“I think a nap might be in order when we get home. Lunch, too.”

“I’ll find him something to snack on here,” Viktor said. “Something that doesn’t need to be cooked first.”

“The doctor said there were nutritional shakes he could have,” Yuuri suggested. “Those should be okay.”

Viktor nodded. “We’ll go find those first.”

“How are you holding up, Yuri?” Yuuri asked, pushing the cart along behind his husband.

“Okay,” the boy mumbled. His ear was still red and a flush high on his cheeks colored his thin face. His eyes were glassy with droopy eyelids. The skater didn’t have to feel the child’s forehead to know his fever was going up.

“We’ll be done here soon,” Yuuri promised. “Is your ear hurting you?”

Yuri nodded, miserable.

“Here, Yura,” Viktor found the shakes they were looking for. “Do you like vanilla?”

Yuri shrugged, so the coach put a pack of each flavor in the cart. He poked the attached straw through the foil sealed top and gave it to Yuri. The boy wrinkled up his nose at the bottle. “Don’t wanna be sick.”

“I know, angel,” Viktor sighed. “My Yuuri and I don’t want you to be sick either, but you need to eat something.”

“Just try it,” Yuuri encouraged. “Go slow. You don’t have to finish it all if your tummy starts to hurt. Will you tell me if you think you’re going to throw up?”

“Yes,” Viktor mused. “I don’t much want a repeat of breakfast.”

“Why you want know?” Yuri asked. He rubbed his free hand over his face, digging his little knuckles into his eye.

“So we can help you,” Yuuri tried to explain. “We’re here to watch out for you and take care of you. We want to know if you’re sick.”

Yuri still looked suspicious and fiddled with the straw for a while before taking a tentative sip. His face brightened, and he drank with more vigor.

“Do you like it?”

Yuri nodded. “’Nilla good,” he said quickly, eager to get back to his snack. He got two-thirds of the way through the shake before he tore himself away from the straw, uncertain.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asked him. He watched the boy to see if he was going to vomit, but he gave no signs of distress. His brow pinched together above his exhausted eyes, and one corner of his mouth quirked down. “Is your tummy hurting?”

He nodded, but looked longingly at the remaining shake. “Want it. Can’t no more.”

“You can have the rest of it later,” he assured him, taking the little bottle from him. “We’ll save it for you.”

“You did well.” Viktor smiled, but Yuuri saw him glance into their cart. They’d only gotten halfway through their list.

“Tired,” Yuri mumbled. “We go soon?”

“Mhmm,” Yuuri hummed. “We’ll go soon.” He had Viktor push instead, sure he could find the remaining things faster than his partner could. They went as quick as they could, weaving the cart in and out of the aisles, but it wasn’t fast enough for Yuri. He rubbed at his eyes continually, making them glossier and watery. The water in his eyes turned into silent, sluggish tears and quiet sniffles. Snot dripped down onto his lip, and he wiped it away with his sleeve.

“I know,” Viktor crooned. “We’re nearly done.”

Yuri just whined in response and continued to scrub his eyes as his lids got droopier. He struggled to keep his eyes open, his head nodding so his little chin would hit his chest. He’d straighten up as soon his chin touched his breast, getting a little weepier every time he woke. Finally, he didn’t wake up when his chin touched down. He listed in his seat, leaning dangerously to the side. Viktor guided him down so his forehead, fever hot, could rest against the handle bar between Viktor’s long-fingered hands. His warm breath glided over Viktor’s knuckles in soft puffs. “I’m glad we disinfected the cart,” the coach laughed. “Poor little angel. He needs his bed.”

Yuuri agreed. “We’re nearly done.”

They slowed down now that Yuri was asleep and there was no point rushing to finish so the boy could take a nap. Viktor steered the cart carefully behind Yuuri as they went down the last few aisles. Fellow shoppers laughed and cooed at the sight of Yuri sound asleep in the cart, and Viktor’s face shone with pride. To Yuuri, he’d never been more attractive than he was just then, with his hand cupping the back of Yuri’s head, his eyes sparkling, and his lips turned in a permanent smile as he hummed a soft lullaby under his breath.

Why had they waited so long to do this when fatherhood seemed to suit them so well? Yuri even looked like Viktor, with his fair skin and light hair. Yuuri could have believed the boy was really Viktor’s son if he didn’t know better. He wondered how many people they’d passed that day who thought that too. It was a double-edged sword, he realized. While he was proud to take ownership over the boy who was so special and beautiful and honest, he also wanted to tell everyone that it wasn’t their fault Yuri was so sick, skinny, and stunted. Yuri’s neglect was obvious, and Yuuri was sure everyone saw it just as plain as he did.

He tried not to worry about what people thought; but it was hard. He was married to the most famous figure skater in Russian history. He was notable in his own right, as well. He was a Japanese man living in Russia. They were gay. They were watched. Viktor, however, seemed oblivious to it all, and Yuuri couldn’t help but be jealous.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Viktor gushed to the clerk as they checked out. The woman smiled warmly. “We’re fostering him,” Viktor continued. “He’s three.”

Yuuri just smiled and let Viktor talk. “Come here, angel,” he murmured as he extracted the sleeping toddler from his seat in the cart. He whined, but never opened his eyes as Yuuri picked him up. There was a red line across his forehead from the cart handle, and he was comfortingly warm and heavy against Yuuri’s chest. He swayed back and forth to keep Yuri asleep while Viktor paid. Something warm and wet seeped into Yuuri’s collar. Whether it was tears, snot, or drool, Yuuri couldn’t say, and he didn’t care. He pulled Yuri’s hood up before they headed out into the cold afternoon.

The trunk of the car was full of Yuri’s new clothes and toys, so Viktor piled the groceries into the backseat while Yuuri buckled the boy into his car seat. Yuri didn’t stir or make a sound the entire way home. He slept soundly in the car while Yuuri and Viktor brought in the purchases.

“I think we wore him out,” Yuuri said while Viktor untangled Yuri from the straps of the car seat. The boy flopped in his arms as he cradled him against his chest.

“I think you’re right” Viktor laughed. “Shall I put him to bed?”

“Put him on the couch instead,” Yuuri said. “I want to put his new clothes away, and I don’t want to wake him up.”

The afternoon passed in comfortable silence. The couple busied themselves putting away all the things they’d bought for Yuri. His new toys were set up in the den, and his towels and soaps lined the shelves in the upstairs bathroom. A booster seat was added to one of the dining room chairs. The new cups, plates, bibs, and utensils added bright splashes of color to the kitchen.

“This feels right, doesn’t it?” Viktor remarked over a cup of tea. He leaned against the wall of the hallway, looking into the den where Yuri napped on the couch under a fuzzy blanket, sunlight in his hair and his thumb in his mouth.

“It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet,” Yuuri reminded him from the kitchen, where the skater was organizing Yuri’s medications and making a medicine schedule to hang on the refrigerator door, “but I know what you mean. He just…”

“Fits?” Viktor suggested. “I agree. Plus, I’ve always wanted to be a DILF.”

* * *

 

Yuri slept for nearly two hours before he woke to Makkachin licking his fingers. He pulled his hand back away from the edge of the sofa and the dog. The poodle panted in his face, and Yuri covered his nose with the blanket at the smell of her breath.

“Leave him alone,” Viktor scolded the dog gently. “He’s not ready to play with you yet.” She trotted over to her master, who was sitting on the loveseat next to the couch. The house was quiet. Yuri watched as Viktor petted the dog. The man didn’t talk to him, and he didn’t talk to the man. Instead, Yuri laid still, watching and waiting for Viktor to make his move.

“Are you still sleepy, Yura?” he finally asked. “Or are you ready to get up?”

Yuri blinked at him, then sat up. He kept the blanket around his shoulders.

Viktor smiled at him. “How are you feeling now? My Yuuri said you told him your ear was hurting while we were at the store.”

Yuri nodded. “Hurts.” His voice crackled painfully. His little face was flushed, and his nose was red. His silky hair was tangled on one side. His eyes were still puffy and droopy from sleep, and his bottom lip jutted out. He took a deep hitching breath.

Viktor was on his feet before Yuri could start to cry. He easily scooped the boy up, taking the blanket with him. “My little angel,” Viktor sang as he rubbed his back. “I know. Being sick isn’t much fun, is it? Let’s find you some medicine.” He carried him to the laundry room, where Yuuri was moving Yuri’s old clothes and his stuffed animals from the washer to the dryer. The man was determined to wash everything Yuri had touched in an attempt to keep the germs at bay. The sheets the boy had slept in the previous night sat washed and folded in the laundry basket. He jumped when Viktor called his name.

“Who do you have there?” he smiled, recovering quickly when he saw Yuri bundled up in the blanket.

“Yuri,” Yuri answered in a miserable little voice.

Yuuri’s smile widened. “Good morning, Yuri. Did you sleep okay?”

“He’s not feeling well,” Viktor answered when the boy stayed quiet. “His ear is bothering him, and he still has a fever.”

“I think we can do something about that.” He started the dryer and led the way to the kitchen. Viktor set Yuri down on the counter so Yuuri could drip the boy’s ear drops into the infected ear and stuff it with a small shred of cotton.

“Feel funny.” Yuri screwed up his face at the sensation of the liquid draining into his ear canal. “Cold.”

“Yeah?” Yuuri measured out a cupful of milky purple medicine. “Can you take this for me?”

Viktor held the plastic medicine cup to Yuri’s mouth, and the child drank. “Ew,” he complained afterwards, sticking his tongue out. Viktor laughed at him.

“I don’t think this one’s going to be better,” Yuuri apologized as he measured out another dose. This one was thick, white, and chalky.

Yuri gagged on it, and Viktor had to clamp his hand over the boy’s mouth to keep him from spitting it out. “It must not taste too good. You have to swallow it.”

Yuri shook his head behind Viktor’s strong hand.

“Here.” Here took Yuri’s unfinished milkshake from the fridge. “Swallow it, and you can have more of your drink to get the taste out of your mouth.”

Still, Yuri held the medicine in his mouth before finally swallowing. He grabbed the shake and sucked it down greedily, only coming up for air when the bottle was empty. “Hate it,” he told them. “It nasty.”

“It didn’t look too tasty to me either,” Viktor said. “But it will make you feel better.”

Yuri shook his head, in denial. “No more. It nasty.”

Yuuri poured him a sippy cup of fruit punch flavored electrolyte water. “Try this. You don’t have to have any more medicine for a while.” That seemed to placate the boy for now, and he took the water from his foster parent. “Have you checked his diaper?” he asked the other man. “Go ahead and change him,” he said when Viktor shook his head. “I need to remake his bed.”

Viktor twisted his wedding ring around his finger but didn’t protest. He’d never changed a diaper before, but he was a dad now and diapers were a part of this new life. Yuri was patient with him as he fumbled with the dirty diaper, the wipes, and the baby powder. It took longer than it would have taken Yuuri, but he got it done. Yuri sipped his drink while Viktor pulled up the boy’s pants. “How’s that?” Viktor asked. “Comfortable?”

Yuri nodded and held up his free arm, asking to be picked up. He buried his nose into Viktor’s throat. It was cold.

Viktor got him settled on the den couch again and turned on a Disney movie, one of his own favorites. “Have you seen this one before?” He asked, sitting down next to him. “Do you know the story of Rapunzel?” he asked when Yuri shook his head.

“Who?”

“Rapunzel,” Viktor repeated, frowning.

“That one?” Yuri pointed to Mother Gothel.

“Rapunzel’s the one with yellow hair. She has really long hair. So long, she can put it out the window from the top of a tall, tall tower and her mommy can climb up it all the way up.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really! What about Cinderella?” Viktor tried. “Do you know her? Or Sleeping Beauty? Little Red Riding Hood? Hansel and Gretel? How about Baba Yaga? Your mommy must have told you about Baba Yaga and her walking house and flying pot.”

Yuri looked over at him, confused. “They in this?” He pointed to the mounted screen.

Viktor kissed his forehead with a little shake of his head. “Just watch.”

Yuuri joined them a while later. His smile when Yuri crawled into his lap made his cheeks ache.


	3. Chapter 3

It only took a day and a half for Yuuri and Viktor to begin to develop a routine with Yuri. Neither man had spent much time around such a young child, so it was a learning experience for both of them. It was hard to tell how much of Yuri’s needs were due to his age, his neglect, or his illness. He slept and lounged around on the couch a lot. Most of his new toys sat untouched. His meals were miniscule, but frequent. Both men were becoming more comfortable around the boy, less afraid of touching him, less concerned that he was going to either suddenly blow up on them or else keel over in silence. Yuri opened up with them a little more every passing hour. He was still suspicious of new things and often refused to speak, but Viktor and Yuuri held on to the hope that he was beginning to trust them.

“Time to check your temperature!” Viktor announced after dinner, kotlety for the adults and a sippy cup full of warm, unseasoned chicken broth for Yuri. The boy glowered at him. Yuri liked being held and carried; he even sometimes initiated the physical contact himself, hesitantly crawling into one of their laps while they watched television together on the couch or holding up his arms with his brows pinched together as though unsure if he was doing the right thing. Hugs and kisses seemed to bewilder him, though, and the poking and prodding that came with taking his temperature and administering his ear drops irritated him. Viktor’s endless smiles never dimmed. “We’ll go really fast,” he promised. Yuri huffed, but sat still in his red booster seat while the man inserted the sharp plastic tip of the thermometer into his uninfected ear.

“Pyat,” Viktor counted down, “chetyre, tri, dva, odin! Good job,” he praised and read the number out for Yuuri. “37.8.”

“It’s coming down,” the skater remarked, writing the number down on the chart he had made. Despite the medication, Yuri’s fever had stubbornly stuck around, hovering around 38 degrees, never going higher than 38.4, but never breaking either. It made the little boy cold and sweaty and tired. He’d spent the majority of the day on the den couch, watching movies and listlessly playing with his new firetruck. He fell asleep around the same time as he had the day before and woke a few hours later. Yuuri made a note of it. “There.” He picked Yuri up and showed him the chart.

Yuri touched the neatly printed number. “There” he repeated, and Yuuri smiled.

“How’s your tummy?” Viktor asked. Meal times were hard for Yuri. His sensitive stomach was too used to being empty for food to be its friend. At the same time, Yuri wasn’t able to pace himself when it came to food. His shrunken stomach would fill up quickly, but Yuri, too used to not having enough food or maybe going without completely, would eat everything he could and make himself sick. Already that day, Yuri had thrown up twice, once after breakfast and again after afternoon snack because he’d eaten more than his stomach could hold. Yuuri knew it was something they would have to watch out for.

Yuri shrugged.

“Do you want to hold off on medicine for now?” Viktor directed to Yuuri.

Yuri stuck his tongue out at the mention of his medicine, and Yuuri laughed. “I think we can wait awhile.” There was no point in giving him medicine so soon after he ate when he was so likely to bring it back up. “How about a bath instead?”

Yuri brightened considerably. He kicked his feet out in the air at smiled at Yuuri. He didn’t seem the type to do anything by half. The things he didn’t like, such as taking medication, he really didn’t like, and the things he liked, bath time and having his hair brushed, he looked forward to. “Bath!”

“Is it bath time?” Viktor took the boy and spun him around.

“You’ll make him sick,” Yuuri warned, but Yuri just giggled.

Bathing Yuri didn’t really need to be a two-person job, but neither man was willing to miss out on seeing him look so happy.

“Bubbles!” Yuri exclaimed when Yuuri put him the tub. He splashed at the white foamy islands floating around him. He played with the little toy boats while the men worked in tandem, passing each other loofas and body wash that smelled like sugar cookies and lathered his pale skin. He pushed a boat under the water and watched as it popped back up to the surface. He clapped his hands together, delighted.

“Do you like your boats?” Yuuri asked.

“Yes! Look!” He sank the boat again so his foster parents could see it float back up. He looked at them expectantly.

“Neat!”

“That’s great, Yura,” Viktor agreed. “Can you tell me what color it is?”

“Orange?” Yuri guessed.

“Close.” Yuuri poured a cupful of water over the child’s chest and shoulders. “It’s red.”

“Red,” Yuri echoed. His lips curved down. He shoved the boat into a mound of bubbles to hide it. He held up a different boat. “Green.” This time it wasn’t a question.

“That’s right! You’re so smart.”

Yuri grinned. He seemed to thrive on praise, and Yuuri wondered how much of it he got at home.

“Vik-tor, look it green!”

“It _is_ green! What about this one?” He held out another boat, but Yuri ignored him in favor of sinking the green one. He shoved the boat under the water, the force of it splashing water into Viktor’s face. Yuuri hid his snigger at Viktor’s shocked expression.

“Let’s lean back now,” Yuuri directed the boy. “It’s time to wash your hair.”

Yuri sank back into the water obediently, still clutching the green boat. His pale face was surrounded by bubbles, and his green eyes were bright as he looked up into Yuuri’s brown ones. The skater smiled at him, and Yuri smiled easily back. Viktor balanced the ignored boat on Yuri’s forehead. The child tried to look up at it, giggling, and it fell into the bubbles. When he sat back up, a foamy crown of bubbles ringed his hairline.

Viktor let Yuri sniff the shampoo before he lathered up his dripping hair. “Yummy!” the boy decided.

“It’s apple.”

“Wanna eat it.”

“No, don’t do that,” Yuuri laughed. “It smells good, but it doesn’t taste good.”

“Eat!” Yuri insisted, grinning.

“Are you playing with my Yuuri?” Viktor teased as he gently scrubbed Yuri’s scalp. Yuri laughed and slapped at the water.

“How come you like bath time so much?” Yuuri asked as he poured a cupful of water over the boy’s head. Viktor shielded Yuri’s eyes with his hand so suds wouldn’t drip into them even though they were using tearless shampoo.

Yuri shrugged. “It warm,” he suggested, “and it clean. Smell good.”

“It does smell good, doesn’t it?” Viktor tilted Yuri’s head back so he could wash his face. When the boy closed his eyes, he sent an uncomfortable glance to his husband, and Yuuri shrugged in response. Being warm and clean shouldn’t be so special that it was the best part of a child’s day.

They let Yuri play in the tub for a while even after he was clean. The boats were sunk over and over, and both men got splashed more than once, but neither wanted to curb his enthusiasm.

They wrapped him up in one of his hooded towels, the frog one, and dried him off before changing him into a diaper and a pair of soft fleece pajamas.

“Brush,” the boy said, tugging at Yuuri’s pant leg. “Do brush, do brush.”

“We’ll brush in a little bit,” the man promised. “How’s your tummy? Is everything good?”

“Yes!”

Yuri’s smile was so big, Yuuri was tempted to stay quiet, but instead he said “Then I think it’s medicine time.”

“No!” Yuri wailed.

Viktor carried him downstairs while he whined. “I know, angel, but it will make you feel better. You can have a drink after, and we’ll brush your hair, and everything will be okay.”

“Don’t want to!”

Despite all of his complaining, he managed to keep down the medicine and the electrolyte water Yuuri gave him. However, all joy from the bath drained out of him, and he pouted as Viktor helped him brush his teeth and get into bed. Yuuri sat down next to him on the bed and brushed through his damp hair with a hairbrush small enough for Yuri to comfortably hold on his own.

“You know why you have to take medicine, don’t you?”

Yuri didn’t answer. He twisted Kotonok’s ear.

“I know it tastes bad,” Yuuri continued, “but it needs to get into your belly so it can make you feel better. You don’t want to have your ear and throat hurt anymore, do you?”

“No,” Yuri mumbled.

“We don’t want you to feel bad either. We want you to be healthy so you can do a ton of fun things with us. We can go to the ice rink and the park and a whole bunch of other fun places.”

“Park?”

“Yeah! Anywhere you want, but you have to take your medicine, okay?”

Yuri heaved a dramatic sigh. “Okay.”

Yuuri kissed the back of the boy’s head. Yuri looked over his shoulder at him. “What you do?”

“This.” He kissed Yuri’s forehead.

“For why?”

“I wanted to. You’re being good, and you make me happy, so I wanted to give you a kiss. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Yuri drawled out. “I make you happy?”

“You do! You make Viktor and I very happy. Do you like being here?”

Yuri studied Yuuri’s face before nodding.

The man beamed at him. Yuri turned around and the man continued brushing his hair. It wasn’t tangled anymore, but Yuri liked the comforting, repetitive motion of it, and Yuuri like doing something that made Yuri happy. Besides, Yuri’s hair really was beautiful. Despite the little boy’s unhealthy and fragile body, his hair was shiny and strong. It hung in a straight golden curtain, soft and fine. In a way, it reminded Yuuri of Viktor’s hair, long before he met him, when he was just an inspiration and unfairly attractive face on his walls. He remembered crying when Viktor cut his hair from the gleaming silver ponytail to the classic style he wore now. He hadn’t told Viktor about that, he realized. The fact that he had actually married the man he’d idolized for so long still astounded him. And now, there was a child sitting in front of him, on the bed they’d shopped for on a rainy Thursday, in a house they bought together, and the boy had long, beautiful hair. Truly, it was unreal.

Eventually, long after his hair had dried, Yuri’s head began to droop. Yuuri put the brush down to comb through the boy’s hair with his fingers instead. Gently, he slid out from behind the child and moved the covers back. “Bedtime, Yura.” Yuri’s eyes were already closed when he laid down. Yuuri tucked him in and rubbed his thumb over Yuri’s brow and down the side of his face, over and over until he was sure he was asleep. “Good night, angel.”

Viktor and Yuuri stayed up a few hours after Yuri had gone to bed, but neither of them could relax completely. The house was too big and too quiet now. They watched television, but they kept the volume down so they could listen for Yuri on the floor above them. They cuddled on the couch, but almost all they talked about was Yuri; what Yuri had eaten that day, what movie Yuri seemed to like the most, Yuri’s medication, Yuri’s diapers, what Yuri had said that day. They occasionally took breaks from talking about Yuri to go check on Yuri.

“I called Mrs. Lodovskya this afternoon,” Viktor said as they climbed into bed late that evening.

“Did you?”

“Yes. She didn’t answer, but I left her a message. Dr. Chazov was supposed to send her Yuri’s chart.”

“I wonder what she’ll say,” Yuuri mused. “He’s so small and thin. His mother must have never fed him for him to be so underweight. I can’t understand how she could have ignored him so much.”

“I know,” Viktor sighed. “Thank God the grandfather finally spoke up. It breaks my heart to think about it.”

Yuuri shook his head. “No. It pisses me off. How could anyone do something like that to him? To anyone? He’s just a baby! His own mother! I’ve never been so angry at anyone. I don’t even know this woman, and I hate her. I don’t _want_ to meet her.”

Viktor kept him from ranting further with a lingering kiss to his neck. “My love,” he purred. “Look at you. So passionate and fierce.” He worked his way up Yuuri’s neck to nip at the underside of his jaw.

“Don’t kiss me when I’m mad,” Yuuri complained though he didn’t push his husband away. “I want to be angry. Let me be angry.”

“Yes, yes,” Viktor agreed. “Be angry, and I’ll be sad.”

“You don’t seem very sad.”

“That’s because you always make me so happy.”

“You’re being cheesy.” Yuuri returned and deepened the next kiss all the same.

“I never said thank you.”

“For what?” asked Yuuri, more than a little breathless.

“Saying yes. For fostering Yuri with me. Just when I thought I couldn’t love you any more, you surprise me.”

“I love you, too.”

“Viktor,” Yuuri asked several exhausting minutes later, “are you still awake?”

“Hmm,” Viktor groaned sleepily. “Again?”

“Tomorrow is Monday,” Yuuri continued.

“Yes, my love.” His words slurred together.

“Monday is a rink day.”

“So it is.”

“What are we going to do with Yuri? He’s still sick.”

That woke Viktor up quick enough. “Oh. I didn’t realize… I suppose we could take a few days off. Your next competition is still a while off, isn’t it?”

“February 3rd.”

“Right. Should we get a babysitter?”

Yuuri sighed. “I don’t know. Doesn’t that defeat the purpose? We’re supposed to be the ones taking care of him. I don’t want to hire someone else to do it for us. Besides, he’s already been handed off to us. I don’t want to do the same thing to him. But we’re at the rink so much.”

“What are you saying?” Viktor rolled over. “You’re not ready to retire, are you?”

“No! No, I’m not.” As much as he wanted to spend time with Yuri and give him the best life he could and the family he deserved, he couldn’t imagine a life without skating. Didn’t want it. “But maybe we could slow down for a while,” he suggested instead. “Just while Yuri’s with us. We could take him to the rink with us on practice days and teach him how to skate.”

“I’d like that,” Viktor hummed. “We could bring some toys and maybe set up a little area for him.”

“We’d need to leave before his nap time,” Yuuri said, like it mattered. They would make it work. No matter what Yuri needed from them, the couple would find a way to give it to him without jeopardizing Yuuri’s career. They spent the rest of the night coming up with possible plans and schedules for Yuri’s care, and both fell asleep happy.

Yuuri woke to Viktor urgently shaking his shoulder some hours later. “Yuuri. Yuuri, wake up.” The coach’s hair stood up straight on one side.

“What?” Yuuri mumbled. He sat up and groped around in the darkness for his glasses. “What is it?” The bedside light turned on and blinded him.

“Listen.” Viktor had his eyes open wide, completely awake.

Yuuri woke up immediately at Viktor’s tone. There was no sweet lilt to it, no excitement. “What is it?”

Viktor hushed him. “Do you hear that?”

Yuuri stayed quiet, straining his ears. He could hear the wind blowing in the trees outside and the clock ticking in the hall. There was something else, too. A tiny squeaking intake of breath followed by a soft keening noise.

“Yuri.”

His room was only feet away, but they ran there all the same. They slammed the light switch on when they reached the boy’s room. Yuri’s bed was empty, the covers thrown back in a rumpled mass. Kotonok and the bear were among the blankets, but the owl had fallen onto the floor.

“Yuri,” Viktor called softly into the room. A quiet sob answered him. “Where are you, angel?” He peered into the closet, but it was empty.

Yuuri knelt down to check under the bed and found him. “Oh, Yuri,” the skater’s voice caught in his throat. The little boy was curled up as tight as possible under the bed among the little dust bunnies that had collected there. He clutched his ear with one hand and cried into the other, the sound muffled. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his face was sweaty and tearstained. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? What are you doing?”

“Is he under there?”

Yuuri nodded, still looking at Yuri. “Can you come out here, please?”

Yuri sniffled into the floor. “You mad. You mad at me.” Snot dripped out of his nose.

“No,” Viktor insisted, joining his husband on the carpet. “We’re not mad. Whatever happened, we won’t be mad at you. Please come out.”

Ever so slowly, the boy inched his way over towards his foster parents. They waited for him to come out in his own time, though Yuuri was itching to reach under the bed, pull Yuri out, and hug him and hold him until he stopped crying. Instead, he and Viktor backed up as to not overcrowd the child when he finally emerged. His face was bright red and his sleeve was damp with tears, which still poured forth with every shuddering breath. All three sat on their knees for a moment, Yuri still holding himself protectively and the adults looking from the child to each other, lost.

Suddenly and with a loud cry of pain, Yuri jerked his head to the side, towards the ear he was holding, and with a particularly vicious sob, he reared back and began to beat his head against the floor.

Yuuri snatched the boy up before Yuri could hit his head more than twice. “Yuri!”

“Oh my God, what are you doing?!”

Makkachin barked at them from the doorway, almost inaudible because of Yuri’s loud sobbing.

“Yuri, what’s wrong?” Viktor demanded in a high, shrill voice. “Tell us!”

“Hurts!” Yuri wailed.

“What hurts? Your head?”

“Ear!”

“Your ear?” Yuuri felt himself relax despite having a child cry into his chest. Viktor, however, still looked shocked and dismayed by Yuri’s reaction, and Yuuri couldn’t blame him, but right now, he needed to focus on the immediate problem. “Your ear hurts?” He felt the boy’s ear gently. It was hot, and Yuri whimpered.

“Is his fever up?” Viktor asked, recovering himself somewhat. He rubbed Yuri’s back.

“I don’t know. He doesn’t feel any warmer to me, but we should check it anyway.”

Viktor helped him to his feet so the skater could keep his tight embrace on the boy. Yuri’s sobs had yet to subside and they were making Yuuri’s ears ring. Makkachin followed them downstairs, thankfully no longer barking.

“I sorry,” Yuri mumbled between sobs. “I sorry. I sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Yuuri tried not to be tearful himself.  He had no idea what the boy was apologizing for. Beating himself against the floor or hiding from them or for waking them up at all, he couldn’t be sure, but it didn’t matter. “You didn’t do anything to be sorry for.” But Yuri just shook his head and cried against Yuuri’s shoulder.

Yuri’s fever hadn’t gone up, as it turned out, which was good, but Yuuri and Viktor were at a loss at why the boy’s ear was apparently suddenly hurting him so much. The coach researched possible remedies while Yuuri dripped more medicated drops in to Yuri’s ear.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Yuuri murmured when Yuri screwed up his tearstained face at the sensation. “I know you don’t like it, but we’re going to see if it makes you feel better.”  Luckily, the children’s pain medication was orange-flavored and sweet, so Yuri took it without complaint.

“What have you found out?” Yuuri asked once he’d gotten the boy calmed down some. He still whimpered against the man’s shoulder, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore.

“Someone suggested blowing cigar smoke into his ear,” Viktor answered, an amused smile playing at his lips, “but that’s ridiculous. All that would do is give him cancer from secondhand smoke.”

“Did you find anything useful?” Yuuri asked pointedly, trying to get his husband back on track.

“Wet heat is supposed to help,” Viktor said, serious again. “We just have to be careful not to get a lot of water in his ear. That could make it worse. I’ll get one of his washcloths. They’re softer than the other ones.” He kissed Yuuri before going back upstairs to get the cloth.

“It hurts,” Yuri whispered. “It hurts bad.”

“I know.” Yuuri pecked his hairline. “When did it start to hurt?”

“Dunno,” Yuri sniffled. “Woke up and hurt a lot.”

“Do you remember what Viktor told you the first night you got here?”

Yuri didn’t answer, but rubbed his nose against the man’s shoulder. “We want you to tell us whenever something’s wrong so we can help you. If you feel bad, you need to tell us instead of hiding from us.”

“You was sleeping.”

“I know. Even if we’re asleep when you need help, you have to let us know. We’re not going to be mad at you for waking us up, okay?”

Again, Yuri chose to stay quiet. Yuuri sighed and sank into his chair and began to rock the boy, offering him what little comfort he could. Even though he was slowly coming out of his shell, Yuri still hesitated to talk to either Viktor or Yuuri unless he was asked a direct question, and even then, he didn’t always answer. If they asked if he was hungry or sleepy or needed his diaper changed, he could answer them honestly. However, he never told them that he was hungry or if he was feeling sick on his own. Instead, he waited in silence for one of the men to ask him a question about it. Not for the first time that weekend, Yuuri wished he knew what had happened to the child that made him so quiet and guarded. For now though, all he could do was take care of Yuri as best he could and wait for his walls to come down.

“Here you are,” Viktor said as he came back, his arms laden with so much stuff Yuuri thought the fact he’d even made it down the stairs without falling was a miracle. Viktor draped a towel over his husband’s shoulder before handing him the hot, damp cloth.

“How does that feel, angel?” he asked when the boy settled against Yuuri’s chest with the cloth pressed against his aching ear.

“Mmm. Gooder.”

“Better,” Yuuri corrected automatically.

“Better,” echoed the child.

Viktor wrapped the flannel blanket from the bed around Yuri’s shoulders and set a sippy cup of water and Kotonok on the side table next to Yuuri’s chair. “What else can I do?”

“I’m not sure,” the skater answered honestly. “He’s had some pain medicine and ear drops, so I guess we just have to wait for them to kick in.”

Viktor nodded. “How are you feeling, Yura?” He placed a spindly-fingered hand on Yuri’s narrow back. “Does your ear still hurt?” he prompted when Yuri only shrugged.

“Yeah,” Yuri finally responded. He sniffed snottily against the mucus dribbling from his rosy nose.

Viktor fetched a tissue and helped him blow his nose. “Poor thing.”

“Do you want to stay out here with us, or try to go back to bed?” Yuuri asked.

“You could sleep in our bed with us if you want,” offered the coach.

“Stay here,” Yuri chose. He gripped Yuuri’s loose T-shirt tightly in his fist as though he were afraid someone would tear him away. The man wrapped his arms around the boy in response and picked his rocking back up. Viktor turned the TV on low for some background noise and lay down on the couch with Makkachin on his lap.

They stayed like that for hours, Viktor getting up every so often to re-warm Yuri’s compress and bring Yuuri a fresh towel when the first one got uncomfortably wet from the washcloth’s constant dripping. The chair squeaked as Yuuri rocked, but the sound was rhythmic and comforting. Not much of a singer, the Japanese man hummed any songs he could think of as he rocked, pressing occasional kisses to the top of the boy’s head. With Yuri’s head on his shoulder and tucked under his chin, Yuuri couldn’t see when or even if the boy fell asleep, but he stayed quiet and still for a long time. In this stretch of peace, Viktor dozed off and Yuuri’s mind drifted. However, a sudden spike of pain startled the child awake and sent him into tears again some hours later. It wasn’t quite time for Yuri’s next round of pain medicine, but they gave him a half dose anyway. By the time Yuri quieted down again, the sky had begun to turn purple and pink as the new day dawned.

Yuuri’s neck and lower back were sore, and his legs were numb from Yuri sitting on his lap for so long, but he found he didn’t mind much. He kept rocking, the monotonous squeak ringing in his ears like a lullaby. He listened to the television as he watched the sun rise over the miniscule back garden. A news program droned on, the voices of the newscasters blending into each other. His eyes hurt and his glasses pinched at the bridge of his nose.

On the couch, Viktor stretched and sat up. “How’s he doing?”

“Okay now, I think. He’s been quiet for a little while now, so I guess that’s good.” He watched Viktor stand up and heard his back click audibly. “Did you sleep at all?”

“Some. You?”

“I don’t think so.” To be honest, Yuuri couldn’t be sure. During the night, time seemed to play by its own rules, speeding up and slowing down randomly. He may have gotten an hour or two, but judging from his headache and the way his eyes itched, he couldn’t have slept much more than that. “Not much at least.”

“What about our angel?”

“I’m not sure,” Yuuri admitted. “I can’t see his face, so it’s hard to tell. He’s been quiet for a while now at least.”

Viktor tiptoed over to peer at the boy. He smiled, took a picture with his phone, and showed it to Yuuri. Yuri slept with his cheek pressed hard against the man’s shoulder, his small lips pouting apart. The washcloth, cold and mostly dry now, was trapped under his head, and the small length of hair visible on that side was dark with water and gently waving around his temple.

“Good,” Yuuri said in a sigh that was almost a groan. “I’m glad he’s getting some sleep.”

“You need to sleep, too, my love,” Viktor said gently.

“I’m okay,” Yuuri tried to protest, but his words slurred together and ended in a yawn that made his jaw pop.

“But you’ve been holding him all night,” said Viktor in a playful whine, changing tactics. “Let me have a turn with him.”

Yuuri gave him a wan smile, seeing right through him, but nodded and let him lift Yuri’s limp form from his lap. The sudden rush of blood to his legs sent an unpleasant pins and needles sensation down his shins and into his feet. Yuri must not have been too deeply asleep because he opened his eyes blearily as Viktor cuddled him against his hip.

“Good morning,” Viktor greeted in a soft, sweet whisper. He swayed back and forth in place, mimicking the rocking of Yuuri’s chair Yuri sat up and looked around at them, sleepy and confused. “How is your ear this morning? Is it still being mean to you?”

Yuri blinked, trying to figure out what Viktor was asking. He brushed his little hand by his ear. “All wet,” he said, surprised.

“You said it hurt last night. Maybe it was crying.”

Yuri smiled.

“Does it hurt now?” Yuuri asked, flexing his feet to wake them up before standing.

Yuri shook his head, and Viktor made a show of looking into the child’s tiny ear.

“No wonder it was hurting! He gasped in mock surprise. “You’ve got a whole fire engine in there! It has a hose and everything! Maybe that’s why your hair got wet!”

“Nuh uh,” Yuri giggled sleepily at Viktor’s unwavering enthusiasm. He laughed louder when Yuuri tried to look into his ear too and slapped a hand over it.

“It looks like you’re feeling better then, huh?”

Yuri nodded and wrapped his frail arms around Viktor’s neck. It was almost a hug. Mostly he was trying to get comfortable in the man’s arms, and Yuuri saw him blinking sleepily, but Viktor looked about ready to melt from happiness. “Yay!” he cheered. “How about your tummy and throat? How are they? Do you want some breakfast?”

“Slow, down,” Yuuri laughed. “It’s too early for so many questions, isn’t it?”

Yuri nodded and reached out to be passed over to the skater, who gave his husband a triumphant grin. Viktor pretended to be insulted, as the child nestled down into the man’s grasp, his fluttering eyelashes ticking Yuuri’s neck and his sighing breath warm and moist, but the coach’s amused smile gave him away. “It is pretty early, isn’t it?”

“We could all go back to bed then have breakfast together,” Yuuri suggested, shifting Yuri in his arms. “What do you think, Yura?”

“Okay,” he agreed and let his head drop to Yuuri’s shoulder with a thunk. “Tired.”

“I know. You didn’t get much more sleep than we did, I bet,” Viktor commented as he turned the TV off. “We’ll nap for a couple of hours and see how we’re doing after that.”

This time neither Viktor nor Yuuri even pretended to give Yuri a choice and instead brought him straight up to their room. Just because he was feeling better now didn’t mean he wouldn’t wake up hurting later and try to hide again instead of calling for them. Yuri didn’t complain when Yuuri tucked him into their queen sized bed. He lay on his back and watched as Viktor and Yuuri climbed in around him. He sucked on Kotonok’s ear.

“There,” Viktor sighed once they were all settled. “Now if we need each other, we’ll all be right here. Are you comfortable, Yuri? Do you want your other friends, or are you okay with Kotonok?” The boy’s eyelids were already at half-mast, and the Russian man could already hear Yuuri’s soft snores from the other side of the bed. Yuri took the toy’s ear out of his mouth, nodded, and turned to face him. He didn’t say anything, just looked at Viktor with tired eyes. His face was pale and his green eyes were puffy. The rosiness the coach had come to know high on the boy’s cheeks were gone now that his fever had finally begun to come down, but now he looked too pale for Viktor’s liking. Even so, the man’s heart swelled at the sight of him. How many times had he imagined an image like this? He and his husband spending lazy days in bed with their child, happy, healthy, and lovely, between them. While the circumstance in which he found his newly expanded family didn’t quite match up with this daydream, it was close enough.

“I’m so happy you’re here, Yura,” Viktor whispered to him. Their noses were almost touching. “I’m so happy I got to meet you.”

“Me too,” Yuri mumbled, so quiet the coach wasn’t sure if he’d just imagined it. He waited until Yuri’s slowly blinking eyes stopped opening to plant a kiss on his nose and fall asleep himself.

When the alarm went off a few hours later, Viktor was quick to turn it off, hoping it hadn’t woken the other two. Yuuri was still in the position he’d fallen asleep in, curled up on his side with his arm draped protectively over Yuri. The child had rolled onto his stomach. His thumb had fallen out of his mouth, and he was drooling on Kotonok’s head. Viktor would have taken a picture, but he’d left his phone downstairs, so he silently crept out of bed to start on breakfast. Yuuri stumbled down a while later and headed straight for the coffee pot.

“How long do you think we should let him sleep?” Viktor asked once Yuuri was looking a little more alive.

Yuuri glanced at the time glowing green from the microwave. “I’m not sure. Babies need to sleep a lot, but he also needs to eat and take his medicine. If he doesn’t eat breakfast, we’ll have to double up on snacks later. He already has such a hard time eating what we give him now; I don’t imagine trying to make him eat more would go over well. His stomach is teensy. If he eats too much too soon, I just know he’ll be sick.”

“Maybe he can take a longer nap this afternoon,” Viktor suggested. “There’s nothing in particular we have to do today now that we’re not going to the rink.”

“Alright,” Yuuri agreed. “Let’s give him another hour or so. He couldn’t have gotten more than four hours of sleep last night.”

The men spent their morning pretending to be busy and glancing from the clock to each other. They were like children on Christmas morning, waiting and waiting for the time when the whole family could be together to get on with the more exciting activities of the day. Yuuri brought his yoga mat into the den and did some basic stretches and exercises. Just because they weren’t going to the rink didn’t mean he could afford to slack off, especially as he gained weight so easily.

Viktor sat by his feet and offered encouragement and constructive – if not always tactful – criticism, but mostly he was on his phone researching children’s common sleep schedules by age, home remedies for ear infections, and checking his email. He was happy to see that he’d gotten an email from Mrs. Lodovskya. He quickly typed out a reply to her request to set up a meeting at the end of the week, and returned to his research, listening to his husband groan and strain behind him. “Did Yura get water in his ears yesterday?” he asked. He sat on Yuuri’s feet, back leaning against his legs while Yuuri alternated between sit ups and crunches.

“I don’t know,” Yuuri puffed, breathing hard. “Maybe during his bath. He dunked his head underwater, remember?”

“Oh, yes,” Viktor hummed. “That may be what made his ear hurt so much, then. The internet says that getting water in his ears could aggravate an infection. We shall have to be more careful about that in the future.

Yuuri huffed out an agreement and looked at the clock for the umpteenth time. It was nearly 11 o’clock now, and Yuri had yet to come down stairs. “Two hundred.” He flopped down on the sweat slick mat and fought to catch his breath.

“176, my love,” Viktor corrected absently, still scrolling through his messages. “You still owe me twenty-four.”

Yuuri flexed his toes underneath Viktor to poke him in the butt and was rewarded with a disgruntled yelp. “We should go check on him,” he said as Viktor rolled of his feet. “It’s been nearly two hours.”

Viktor pulled Yuuri to his feet. “You’ll have to do 225 tomorrow. Don’t think I’ll forget.” He smiled sweetly. Yuuri scowled at him.

Makkachin was curled up next to Yuri on the bed, and the child had his face buried in her soft brown fur. She wagged and sat up when the couple came in.

“Were you keeping him warm for us?” Viktor gushed to the dog, making her wag harder. “How responsible of you.”

“I don’t want to wake him up,” Yuuri pouted. He perched on the edge of the mattress next to the boy. Even asleep, Yuri looked exhausted. There was a lilac tinge to his eyelids and the hollows under his eyes. His skin was papery and white. Yuuri laid his hand gently against the boy’s cheek to feel that his fever had come down considerably. He smiled as he wiped away a thin trail of drool from Yuri’s chin. Yuri didn’t so much as twitch.

“He’s so tired,” Viktor cooed. “Precious little thing.”

“He’ll be even more tired if we let him sleep all day then can’t sleep tonight,” Yuuri sighed. “Even so, I hate it.”

“I’ll do it,” Viktor volunteered. “you go shower and let me be the bad guy.”

By the time the skater finished washing off the sweat and joined the others in the kitchen, Viktor had Yuri up and dressed and drinking a strawberry milkshake. The child was sleepy and a bit grumpy all day, but his fever was the lowest it had ever been, and he didn’t throw up at all that day. There were making progress.


	4. Chapter 4

By the end of the week, Yuri’s fever seemed to be gone for good. His voice had lost its raspy quality, there were no more complaints of earaches, and joyfully, the foul, chalky medicine and the milky purple syrup were ready to be replaced by gummy vitamins shaped like smiley faces. Yuri, no longer plagued by the fatigue his infection had brought on, was finally alert enough to play with some of his new toys. He pushed Kotonok around the kitchen on his firetruck while Yuuri made breakfast on Friday morning.

“Be careful,” the skater warned him as he rammed the truck into the cabinets. “Don’t break your truck.”

Yuri frowned and inspected the fire engine’s front bumper. A speck of white paint was stuck to it. “It okay,” he insisted. He flopped Kotonok back onto it and scooted around the marble top island with it. “Look it! Yuuuri, look it, look it!” He pushed the truck as hard as he could, and it rolled away into the hall. “You seen it?”

“I did see,” Yuuri smiled before going back to finishing the buckwheat porridge he was preparing. “You pushed it so far!”

Yuri beamed at him. The door slamming in the living room caught his attention, and he scampered out to investigate. “Vik-tor!” Yuuri heard him call. “Come see, come see!” He soon reappeared in the hall, followed closely by the coach and the dog, and pointed at his truck where it was sat in the hall. Makkachin nosed the stuffed tiger before licking Yuri’s arm and padding into the kitchen to check for dropped snacks.

“Is Kotonok driving your truck?” Viktor asked.

“Show him how far you can push it,” said Yuuri as he dished up breakfast.

Yuri eagerly complied and gave the truck a giant shove, sending it into the den. “See!”

“Whoa,” Viktor gasped. “You got it all the way in the den! You’re so strong!” Yuri’s smile was so big, Viktor could have counted his teeth.

Breakfast was a slow, if frustrating affair. Yuri was getting better at eating and keeping his food in his stomach instead of all over his pajamas, but the task was arduous. He was more adept at handling his little utensils; they fit well in his hand and had rubber grips that made them easier to hold. However, he only took tiny bites of his food and spent more time pushing his food around his bowl between mouthfuls than actually eating. Eating so slowly meant Yuri had an easier time digesting his food, but it also meant the couple spent a long time at the table waiting for him to finish.

“How are you feeling today, Yura?” Viktor asked over the dregs of his coffee.

“Um, good,” Yuri decided as he scraped his spoon around the sides of his bowl. “Tummy okay.”

“That’s great,” Yuuri smiled. “We thought maybe if you were feeling good, we could do something fun today.”

“Fun what?”

“My Yuuri and I need to go to the ice rink today.”

“Why?”

“Have you ever been ice skating?”

Yuri shook his head, dropping his spoon into his empty bowl with a clatter. “All done.”

“Well, it’s really fun,” Viktor explained. “It’s what we do. We’re skaters.”

Yuri sipped at his blueberry flavored water, seemingly unimpressed. Yuuri bit his lip to keep from laughing. Viktor was maybe too used to people fawning over him due to his charming personality and his illustrious career as an Olympic figure skater. Yuri was a three-year-old who had never seen a Disney movie before coming to stay with them. There was absolutely no reason why Yuri would have any regard for skaters or their sport.

“It’s a lot of fun,” Yuuri elaborated. “You get to go really fast and spin around and jump. I think you’ll like it.”

The married couple spent a long time getting a bag together. Yuuri’s things were easy to pack. Over the long years of his career, the supplies he brought with him to and from the rink had improved in quality, but the items themselves stayed the same. His warm up clothes, a hoodie, a couple towels, and several bottles of water were quickly collected and readied in his workout bag. He threw in deodorant, earbuds, and a pair of socks as well. He’d packed this same bag with the same things so often that he didn’t have to think about what he needed or didn’t need; it was second nature to him now. He neither over-packed nor under-packed. He never spent longer than about two minutes on getting his bag ready.

The bag for Yuri, on the other hand, took a lot longer to pack. As this was their first trip to the rink with the child, the men weren’t sure how long they should plan to be there. It was still early, close to 8, and Yuri was usually ready for a nap by 1 in the afternoon, so they hoped to be home by then. How many snacks would he need? How many toys? How many diapers? What if he spilled something or made a mess? They packed a change of clothes. What if he got those dirty too? Another set of clothes were packed, but now they were being ridiculous. They couldn’t very well pack his entire closet. The clothes were taken back out. They knew they should take the new firetruck. Kotonok was a given as well. Was that going to be enough to keep him entertained for the day? There was no TV for him to watch. Paper and crayons made their way into the bag. The box of blocks was way too big to go in the bag, but they could carry it in. Even though they were hoping to be done for the day by the time Yuri was ready for his nap, there was no telling if Yuri would get sleepy early and want to lie down. Would he be okay to take a nap at the rink? That seemed out of the question (where would be a good, warm, soft place for him to sleep), but they packed a pair of warm pajamas and his fleece blanket and pillow all the same.

Yuri sat on the somewhat stiff couch in the living room and watched as his foster parents loaded everything into the car. “What all that for?” he asked when Yuuri came back in to get him, pointing to the car, where Viktor was stuffing the bags into the trunk.

“I don’t even know,” Yuuri sighed as he hoisted the boy up. “We probably don’t need half that stuff.”

* * *

 

The rink was cold when they arrived. Of course it was. It was an ice rink; it had to be cold, but Yuuri felt it more today as he led Yuri into the building. The boy shuffled slowly along, his hand clasped in Yuuri’s, staring up at the lofty ceiling, leaving Viktor to lug in the bags behind them. “What do you think, Yura?”

“Big,” the little boy answered simply, still looking up at the dusty metal rafters. “What that?” He pointed at one of the large flags fluttering gently in the blasting air conditioning.

“So are you moving in or what?” a gruff voice called before Yuuri could answer. Yakov Feltsman was strolling towards them, looking grim, but then again Viktor’s former coach always looked grim. The older man had retired when Viktor did, but he still liked to hang around the rink and offer helpful if unsolicited advice to any skater who happened to be there, but to Yuuri and Viktor in particular. Viktor always greeted him with one of his patented winning smiles and usually ignored his grunted suggestions.

 “Good morning!” Viktor puffed back as he caught up with Yuuri and the child. He passed them to meet Yakov halfway. He dropped their stuff rather unceremoniously on the floor to shake the man’s hand. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Yakov grunted. “What’s with the luggage? Who’s the kid?” He nodded to Yuri, who ducked behind Yuuri’s legs.

“Yuri.”

“I know Yuuri.” Yakov rolled his eyes. “I’m talking about the baby.”

“His name is Yuri, too,” Yuuri explained. He tugged at Yuri’s arm gently, trying to pull him out into the view, but Yuri whined and held on to Yuuri’s pants.

“That’s confusing,” Yakov grumbled. “He yours?”

“For now,” Viktor told him. “We’re fostering him.”

“Come on, Yuri.” The skater pried Yuri’s grip from his leg free and squatted down to the child’s level. “It’s okay. Mr. Yakov is a friend of ours. He used to teach Viktor how to skate, and he helps me sometimes too. Let’s say hi.”

“Gone a week and you come back with a baby,” Yakov was grumbling, shaking his head in amusement while Viktor laughed. “Have you thought about how that’s going to affect Yuuri’s career?”

“Don’t look so worried.” Viktor waved away Yakov’s concern with a flap of his hand. “Everything will be fine.”

The former coach’s thin lips quirked up when Yuri finally came properly into view. The boy looked up at him, not so much meekly as wearily, as though he were waiting to see what the man would do to decide if he was friend or foe. Yakov knelt down to Yuri’s level even though it hurt his knees to do so. “Hello, Yuri. It’s nice to meet you.” He held out his hand to give him a high five. It took the child a moment to decide to slap his palm. “Are you going to skate today?”

“It’s up to you,” Yuuri whispered in the boy’s ear, and Yuri shrugged his shoulders.

“He’s never been skating before,” Viktor said, clapping a hand on the older man’s shoulder.

“No?” Yakov’s nonexistent eyebrows lifted. “Your new friends are the best skaters in the whole world,” he told Yuri in a hushed voice, like a secret. “It’s like magic.”

The older coach helped carry their admittedly too many bags over to the side of the ice. “I don’t know if we have skates small enough for him,” he was saying to Viktor, but Yuuri ignored him in favor of showing the child the rink.

“This is where Viktor and I work,” he told Yuri. “I skate, and he tells me what to do. We come here almost every day, so you’ll be coming here with us, too.”  

Yuri didn’t answer him, choosing to tuck his thumb into his mouth instead. He squatted down and touched the ice with a careful finger. He glided his tiny finger over the ice in a little pattern, apparently not minding the cold, and Yuuri smiled.

“What do you think, angel?” Viktor asked, coming up behind the child and patting his head once he’d unpacked Yuri’s toys.

“Snow.”

“It is like snow, isn’t it?” Viktor grinned. “Are you ready to start?” he asked his husband.

“Give me a minute to change.”

As Yuuri started his warm ups, his heart fluttered in his chest. Yuri was currently balanced on Viktor’s hip, watching as Yuuri skated laps around the rink. His thumb was still in his mouth, and he now held Kotonok with his free hand. Yakov sat in his usual seat, but seemed to be watching the boy more than he did the skater. Viktor’s smile was so big, it made his nose crinkle. He looked so natural and perfect with Yuri in his arms. Even though he knew he was being unreasonable, Yuuri couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy as he flew by where Viktor and Yuri were standing. Yuuri was still there with them to make sure that the boy was okay, but he wouldn’t be able to hold him or talk to him while he was training. Viktor could. Even Yakov could help out with the child’s care if he wanted to.

“Get a move on, my love,” Viktor called to him, and Yuuri realized he’d been slowing down as he ruminated. “You’re beautiful, but watching you skate in circles isn’t very exciting for Yuri!”

That made Yuuri laugh as he picked up the pace, eager to finish his warm ups so he could start his actual training. He had a competition coming in February, but as it was still mid-October, Viktor had yet to work out the choreography. He was still working on mastering new skills they could incorporate into his competition routine when the time came. Currently, he was working on landing a triple axel. He’d done it a handful of times, but not enough to be confident in landing it during contest, so every practice began with the triple axel while he was at his peak energy level. Today was no different, except Yuri, who had never seen ice skating, was there to watch. Yuuri was desperate to make a good first impression for the sport he loved. Yakov started the music for him, his usual practice playlist, and Yuuri got in his starting position, then began to pick up speed, building up his momentum. What if Yuri didn’t like it? What if he found it boring, or silly, or stupid? Would they have to drag him to the rink every morning against his will? Or find a babysitter or a daycare for him, leaving him in the care of a stranger?

“Now!” Viktor called to him.

Yuuri jumped, but only made two and a half rotations before coming down hard on his butt. He could hear Yuri laughing, and his face heated up. So much for a good first impression, but at least the little boy found it entertaining. He scrambled to his feet and rubbed his backside to get rid of the sting before starting up again.

“Concentrate!” Viktor yelled as Yuuri skated by. “Really bend that knee!”

Yuuri leapt into the air again. Still, he only got two and a half rotations before he landed, but at least this time he stuck the landing. Sweat started to bead at his temples, and he skated another lap back to his husband. Yuri was smiling ear to ear and clapping. Viktor was smiling to, but that had more to do with Yuri’s reaction to Yuuri’s attempt than the attempt itself.

“Again!” Yuri cheered when the skater stopped in front of them. “Do again! Do again, Yuuuuri!” His green eyes shone, and he’d even dropped his stuffed tiger in all the excitement.

“Your momentum is good, but you’re not getting the height you need,” Viktor told him. “You’re coming down too soon to get all the way around. Think about really kicking your leg to get as high up as you can.” Yakov didn’t add anything to Viktor’s instructions for once; he was too busy examining Yuri’s toys to offer any criticism, constructive or otherwise.

Yuuri nodded, ruffled Yuri’s hair, and tried again. This time, he got all three rotations and managed to land on his feet, though he did have to put out a hand to keep his balance. Viktor and Yuri both cheered, and Yakov even applauded. Yuuri did it again, and again, and again, each time getting a little bit better. After working on the axel for as long as Viktor deemed was safe, Yuuri took a quick break to get some water and kiss Yuri’s forehead before getting back to practice, this time focusing on his footwork. Yuri stayed in Viktor’s arms, watching Yuuri skate, for so long that the coach had to switch him back and forth from side to side to keep his arms from getting too tired. He finally wiggled down and set to work building a tower, with Yakov’s occasional help, after watching Yuuri for almost an hour. The rest of the practice, while perhaps less exciting, went surprisingly well. The harder Yuuri worked, the faster he could get back to Viktor and Yuri. He poured his heart into every jump, flip, and spin, and before he knew it, Viktor was looking at his watch and calling time.

Yuri was sitting on his folded up blanket, nursing on a sippy cup. Crayons were scattered around him and several pages of paper covered in red, green, and purple scribbles were in front of him. Yakov was diligently packing up the boy’s blocks. “I didn’t ask him to do that,” Viktor leaned in and whispered in Yuuri’s ear. “It’s nearly one,” he said at a more normal volume. “We should get ready to go soon.”

“Wanna go,” Yuri piped up, toddling to his feet.

“We’re going to leave really soon,” Yuuri panted a promise. “Do you want to help us clean up really quick so we can go home?”

“No,” the child whined. “Wanna go!” He pointed past Yuuri to the ice.

“He wants to skate!” Viktor said unnecessarily, giddy. “Are there skates here for him?” he asked Yakov.

“I doubt it,” the former coach answered. “I told you before that I didn’t think there were any small enough for him. The children’s beginner class starts at age three.”

“But he’s three!”

“Yeah, a tiny three,” Yakov grunted. “I can go check if you want, but I can just about guarantee we don’t have any small enough.”

“Skate,” Yuri insisted, tugging at Viktor’s pants leg. Viktor bit his lip.

“I can take him around the rink,” Yuuri offered. “I’ll hold him and go slow. He’ll be fine.”

“Fine!” Yuri echoed and held his arms up to the skater. “Up!” And Yuuri was only too happy to oblige.

“You just don’t want to help clean up,” Viktor teased as Yuuri skated away.

Yuri clung tight to his neck as Yuuri skated at a slow pace around the edge of the rink. Yuuri held him as securely as he could without hurting the boy, terrified of dropping him on the rock hard ice. Yuri started to relax more as they began their second lap. He still held on tight, but leaned away from the skater’s chest to look around. His golden hair rustled away from his face, and his eyes were bright.

“Faster!” he insisted. “Go faster, Yuuuuri!”

“Faster?” Yuuri grinned. “You want to go fast?”

“Yes!”

“What if we go backwards?” He effortlessly flipped around to skate backwards, and Yuri screeched.

“Faster!”

Yuuri turned back around and picked up a little speed. All of Yuri’s pretty little teeth showed when he smiled, and Yuuri could smell vanilla from his milkshake on his breath.

“Jump!”

“How about we spin instead?” There was absolutely no way he was going to attempt a jump while holding a baby, no matter what Yuri wanted. Viktor would probably have a heart attack just thinking about it. A spin would be okay, though. He spun Yuri easily, much slower and lazier than any spin he would perform at competition. Still, Yuri was thrilled. He tilted his head back and laughed as Yuuri spun him around and around. He was still pleading for more when Yuuri stepped off the ice and put him down to change out of his sweaty clothes.

“This is going to work,” Viktor announced happily on the way back home. He kept his voice low because Yuri was fast asleep in the backseat in his car seat. “So long as you’re dedicated and focused the whole time we’re there, the new schedule shouldn’t impede your training.”

“Are you sure you can handle taking care of Yura and coaching me at the same time?” Yuuri whispered. “I know he’s an angel,” he said quickly when Viktor began to protest, “but he’s three. The healthier he gets and the more he comes out of his shell, the more active he’ll get. He’s going to be a handful.”

“Yuuri,” sighed Viktor in amused exasperation. “You talk like everything is set in stone. We’re not bound to this plan at all. If we need to make alterations to the schedule, we will. You saw Yakov today. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind stepping in every once in a while if we needed some extra help when we’re at the rink. He’ll probably try to help even if we don’t him to.”

“I still don’t understand why he bothered to retire,” Yuuri laughed. ‘He’s still at the rink as much as we are.”

“See? Don’t worry so much.” Viktor put his hand on Yuuri’s thigh. “We’ll take it a day at a time and make adjustments when we need to. You can relax.”

Yuuri sighed through his nose and looked out the window. He wasn’t used to leaving the rink with the sun so high in the sky. Autumn days in Russia never got very bright as they days got shorter and shorter going into winter, and the overcast sky was strange to see when he was so used to seeing the moon when he left practice. Still, it would be nice to have the afternoons off, to spend them with Viktor and Yuri. He glanced into the backseat at the boy. He slept with his head tilted to the side to rest against the padded lip of the car seat. His blond hair was tucked neatly behind his ears for once, though a few stray baby hairs stuck out at his temples and fluttered in the warm air pumping from the car’s heating vents. His breath came in cute little huffs and puffs from his open mouth, and a little bit of snot crusted at his nostrils. There was still so much about the child Yuuri wanted to learn. Not just his past, though he’d be lying if he claimed that didn’t interest him, but his thoughts, his likes and dislikes, his personality. What he wanted. What he needed.

“He’s really conked out, isn’t he?” Viktor smiled one of his perfect endless smiles. “Do you hear him? He’s snoring.”

“Don’t tease him,” Yuuri grinned back. “His nose got stuffy from the cold air at the rink.”

“I’m not teasing,” argued Viktor. “I would never. I just think it’s cute, that’s all.”

“It is cute. As soon as we get home, we need to put him to bed. We’re already cutting into his naptime.”

They passed the rest of the journey in happy silence, listening to Yuri’s slightly noisy breaths, only breaking it when they approached their driveway and saw a silver minivan parked on the street in front of their house.

“Oh no,” Viktor groaned as he parked the car. “I forgot.”

“What? What is it” Yuuri craned his neck to look at the van. “Who is that?”

“Mrs. Lodovskya.”

“Oh?”

“We have a meeting with her. I completely forgot about it.”

“Viktor! How could you forget? You didn’t even tell me about it! How long has she been waiting for us to get home?”

“I don’t know!” He looked at his watch. “Maybe fifteen minutes?” he guessed.

“Viktor!”

Yuri made an unhappy noise from the backseat as their bickering woke him. With that their argument was over. Yuuri helped the little boy out of the car while Viktor went to make his apologies to the boy’s case worker.

“I know,” Yuuri cooed as he unbuckled the child and lifted him out of the seat. “You’re so tired, and we disturbed your nap, didn’t we?”

Even awake, Yuri was warm and pliant in his arms. The boy clung to him loosely and whined as he pressed his face into Yuuri’s shoulder. The man kissed the side of Yuri’s head. He waited by the door while Viktor (looking appropriately sheepish) and Mrs. Lodovskya came up the drive. Luckily, the woman wasn’t too annoyed at having to wait for them.

“Welcome to parenthood,” she laughed as Viktor unlocked the door and let them in. “Forgetting the occasional appointment is only the beginning. I have four children of my own, and I’m constantly trying to remember who has what scheduled when and why. Hello, Yuri!” She patted the boy’s back in greeting. “Do you remember me?”

Yuri barely glanced at her. “Yeah.” He turned away from the woman to settle against Yuuri again.

“It’s the middle of his naptime,” the skater apologized. “We took him to the rink with us today and ended up staying a little later than we planned.”

“You’ve got a schedule going already?” Her eyebrows lifted, impressed.

“We’re still working on it.”

“We’re letting Yuri take the lead,” Viktor chimed in. “Whatever he needs.”

“Sorry if I’ve disrupted you’re schedule. I’ll go as quick as I can.”

Viktor showed the case worker the house, focusing on the den, kitchen, dining room, and guest room, as those were the rooms in which the child spent the majority of his time. Yuuri carried Yuri up the stairs after them, and they all crammed into Yuri’s little bedroom.

“Very nice,” Mrs. Lodovskya said as she looked around the room. “Is he comfortable in such a big bed?”

“I think so,” Viktor told her while Yuuri did his best to politely ignore the conversation going on behind him so he could focus on taking care of Yuri. “He hasn’t said anything about it? Why? Do you think we should get him a smaller one, like a toddler bed?”

“Yuuuuri,” the boy complained softly as the man helped him out of his coat and boots. “Tired. Wanna sleep.”

“I know you do,” Yuuri sighed. “As soon as we’re done talking to Mrs. Lodovskya, you can go back to sleep. How about we find you a snack? You didn’t have much lunch today.” Truth be told, the skater was hungry too, but he didn’t think he could eat in front of the case worker. He didn’t want her to think that he didn’t care about their meeting, and somehow eating lunch in front of her didn’t seem like the best move to keep up with the idea.

Yuri didn’t complain anymore, but he could barely keep his eyes open as Yuuri changed his diaper and brought him back downstairs where Mrs. Lodovskya and Viktor were sitting in the dining room. The skater quickly got the child a little bowl of cereal, making sure to add lots of milk so the grain cereal wasn’t quite a solid, to munch on before joining them.

“How is he doing with the booster seat?” the case worker was asking when the skater settled next to his husband and sat Yuri on his lap. A shiny yellow folder was in front of the woman, and Yuuri’s eyes kept drifting to it.

“He doesn’t seem to have any problems with it.”

“Hmm.” She opened the folder and took out a sheet of paper. “He’s still a little small to be using a booster seat. He could still be in a highchair until he gets a bit bigger. It would give him more stability and security, but if he’s doing okay with the booster, it’s up to you.”

“We can get one and see how he likes it,” offered Viktor, looking to Yuuri for confirmation, who nodded. Whatever they needed to do to keep Yuri safe, and to keep them in their care, was fine with him. The woman smiled approvingly and skimmed down the page with her finger. Yuri stuck a piece of cereal on the tip of his tongue and slapped at Yuuri’s chest to get his attention to show him.

“How are his ears and throat?”

“Much better now.”

“He’ll have his last round of medicine for it tonight,” Yuuri told her. “It took a while for his fever to break, but it’s been gone for a few days now. His ear really hurt him last Sunday night, but he hasn’t had any major problems with it or his throat since then.”

“Are you feeling okay, Yuri?” the woman asked, not quite ignoring Yuuri’s retelling so much as checking it with the child.

“Uh huh,” Yuri answered without looking at the woman. “I was sick.”

“Yeah? I heard that. How did that happen?”

The boy shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Did you tell your mommy that you weren’t feeling well?” the case worker prompted.

If the boy noticed that Yuuri stiffened at the mention of the mother, he showed no sign of it. Rather, he looked at Mrs. Lodovskya like she’d gone crazy. “She not here.”

The woman smiled at that. “No, I know. I meant before I came to pick you up.”

“Don’t remember.” Yuri smashed a piece of cereal against the table top. “Where Mama?”

“She’s not home right now,” she told him, her smile turning sad. “Do you remember how Viktor and Yuuri here took you to see the doctor? Your mama is at the doctor’s too. She may have to be there for a while so she can get better.”

“She yuckies?”

“In a way. We’ve been investigating his mother and their home life.” She directed this at the two adults. “We didn’t find any drugs and her toxicology came back clear for pharmaceuticals. So far as we can tell, she hasn’t been using. Her alcohol intake, however, was through the roof. Bottles all over the place and hardly any food to speak of. Such a mess, too. Do you know if he was checked for fleas when he went to see the doctor?”

“God,” Yuuri found himself mumbling in English.

“I don’t think so,” Viktor finally answered.

“He doesn’t have fleas,” said Yuuri, firm. “I brush his hair every day and have never seen any fleas or bugs of any kind on him.”

“That surprises me. The house was crawling with them.” She looked over her notes. “We’re still looking into it, but it seems she hasn’t been to work in some weeks. She’ll have to find another job before Yuri is returned to her.”

“So he is going back to her?” Yuuri demanded. “You got the doctor’s report, didn’t you? He was being starved there. He was sick.”

Viktor put his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder to keep him from raising his voice. Yuri tilted his head back to look up at the man holding him. His eyes were sleepy and crumbles ringed his lips. The skater forced a smile for him.

“I understand this must be difficult for you, Mr. Nikiforov,” Mrs. Lodovskya sympathized, though her concern didn’t quite meet her eyes, and Yuuri knew whatever she was going to tell him, she had told and retold so many times, the woman no longer felt its sting. “There are many children here in Russia; too many of them are orphans. Our little Yuri here is not one, and I hope to keep it that way. Too many more _are_ in a situation like his, though, where the parents are too invested in drink or drugs or some other activity to take care of their children, to pay attention to them, or notice them at all. If we do nothing, those children become orphans of a different kind. If Yuri’s mother is able to take care of herself and of him, Yuri won’t be an orphan.”

Yuri tugged on Yuuri’s sleeve. “When I see Mama? I want Mama.”

“When she gets better,” Mrs. Lodovskya answered for him.

“And when will that be?” Viktor asked.

“And how?” the Japanese man added. “She forgot about him once. How do you know she won’t forget him again?”

“Ms. Plisetsky is in a rehabilitation center to help her stop, or at least control, her drinking,” the woman said starkly. “She’ll stay there until the administrators are satisfied with her recovery. After she is released, she will attend parenting classes. Once she has completed her courses and has found a steady means of employment, as well as proving to have a safe and healthy home ready for him, Yuri can go home. Her recovery time is up to her and how hard she works, so I can’t give you an exact time frame, I’m afraid. A guess would say at least a few months, though.”

“A few months,” Viktor echoed.

“Tired,” Yuri chimed in.

“Do you think you would be able to watch over Yuri for that time? If not, I can start looking for a family who is.” It wasn’t a threat, but Viktor shifted uncomfortably all the same.

“We’d like to keep him for as long as he needs us,” answered the silver-haired man in a tense voice.

“Excellent.” Her genuine smile carried a hint of relief. “I’m so glad to hear it. So how have you been doing? How has he been? I have the doctor’s report of course, but I want to hear it from you if you don’t mind. Have you had any problems or questions I could help you with?”

They sat around the table for nearly an hour talking about the boy. They started off by discussing Yuri’s health and habits, how much he was eating and what and when, digestion problems, issues with his development and speech, but soon found themselves talking about Yuri’s favorite toys and how much he loved bath time. Viktor showed her all the photos of him he’d taken over the course of the week, close to a hundred.

“Here,” the woman interrupted when they were talking about Yuri’s diapers. She reached into her bag and took out a large tube of ointment. “Don’t waste your time with baby powder. It’s expensive and doesn’t do anything. It can actually cause respiratory problems. This is better. I’ve used it with all of my kids.”

By the time Mrs. Lodovskya looked at her watch and noticed she was running late for her next appointment, Yuri was long asleep. Yuuri supported him and held him close as he stood to walk the older woman out. The boy’s arms dangled limply by his sides, and his breath came in warm – if slightly snotty – puffs on the skater’s neck.

“Well, I think that went well,” said Viktor cheerily once the case worker was safely out the door and in her car. “I think we impressed her. She said she hardly ever saw a foster family buy so many new toys for their kids.”

“No, I bet not,” Yuuri grinned. “We may have gone a bit overboard.”

Viktor shrugged. “It doesn’t matter so long as he’s happy.”

“And tired.” He swiveled to show his husband the child’s sleep slack face. “I think we threw off his schedule.”

The coach cooed at the boy and ran the back of his hand over Yuri’s smooth cheek. “Oh no,” she smiled. “It’s so long past naptime, isn’t it? We’ll have to get him tucked in so he’ll be recovered enough to eat dinner.”

“Recovered,” Yuuri scoffed. “I can’t believe they’re going to send him back to his mother after what she did to him.”

“I know, but it’s not up to us.” Gently, Viktor gripped the child under the arms and lifted him from Yuuri’s chest to rest against his own. The little boy stiffened as he stretched at the exchange and groaned but didn’t wake up. Viktor swayed back and forth to rock him back into a deeper sleep and laughed as his tiny little baby snores started up again. “I’ll go tuck him in bed. We probably shouldn’t stay at the rink so late tomorrow.”

“It won’t be a problem so long as we don’t have any more meetings you’ve forgotten about,” Yuuri teased at his husband’s retreating back.

* * *

 

When the new family arrived at the rink the following morning (all three of them sleepy and puffy faced), Yakov was waiting for them with a gigantic thermos of coffee for himself and a large paper shopping bag.

“Morning,” he greeted gruffly. “I found something for you.”

“For me?” Yuuri asked, waking up a bit at that. Yakov gave out advice freely enough and at Christmas, he and Viktor both received gift cards to athletic shops from the former coach, but Yuuri had never gotten anything from him that would require a bag of that size.

“No.” He was as blunt as ever. “For him.” He nodded towards Yuri.

The boy looked up from the blanket Viktor had spread out on the floor for him and blinked owlishly at Yakov, then at Yuuri.

“A present?” Viktor gasped, and Yuuri couldn’t tell if his enthusiasm was exaggerated for Yuri’s sake, or if he really was that excited. “Oh, Yura, he got you a present! Isn’t that nice? I wonder what it could be!”

Yuri was not nearly so excited. His expression was a borderline between confusion and curiosity, but Yuuri wouldn’t call it excitement. However, his bewilderment brought a smile to the skater’s face.

“Come on, angel. Let’s see what Mr. Yakov brought for you.” He held out his hand, and that was all the encouragement the child needed to let his curiosity take over. Yuuri led him over to the older man, who gently pushed the bag towards him. Yuri peered timidly into it, and Yuuri heard the sound of Viktor’s phone camera going off. “What is it?” He didn’t wait for Yuri to answer, instead leaning around him to look for himself. A pile of tiny knee pads and elbow pads sat at the bottom of the bag under a little red helmet. On top of that was a little shoe box. Yuuri pulled it out. “Open it, Yura.”

The little boy did, and the tiny skates shone a bright, new white. “Skateses!” he cried, excited now. “I gots skateses! Look it!” He held the box out to Yuuri before whipping around the show Viktor. “Look it, Vik-tor! Skateses!”

“I hope they fit,” Yakov told Yuuri while Viktor snapped dozens of pictures while the boy posed with his new skates. “They were the smallest I could find.”

“Thank you so much, Yakov.” Yuuri hugged him, watching Viktor and Yuri laugh over the man’s shoulder. “They’re perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all for now! Thank you all so much for reading! As I said before, this will become part of an ongoing series, so don't think I'm just going to stop here. I have plenty of plans for Baby Yuri and the Podium Family. If you have any ideas or requests for fics for this series, please let me know! You can leave your ideas in the comments here or contact on Tumblr at lilithlamb.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into the YOI fandom, and honestly I am so excited to be here. I have no idea how many chapters this will be or how often I will update, so I apologize in advance for that. If you have any ideas for this fic or this universe (as yes, I do intend to make this a series!), please feel free to let me know in the comments here or contact me on tumblr at bambirosesavage. Thanks for reading!


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